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Lone Stander Ranhak Part 1

Summary:

Until we get their actual MLs I will claim these two as my ML Ranhak.

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Disagreements between the two were as common as any other. They both had their own gang, their own laws and their own order in their respective territories.

 

In a way, their friendship seemed even more unlikely than the likelihood of an argument… Yet there they were, racing to settle arguments and then grabbing dinner afterwards.

 

These were meant to be the best years of their lives. A time where they were happy, until it would end up shattered into pieces now.

 

Zahhak troubled himself often with expectations set upon him by his gang, he wished nothing but to serve them, even if it meant opposing Ran once more.

 

Truth was, deep in his heart he knew, what happened to Sharun could not be let go like this. In vain. Forgotten. Heartless. If Ran allowed one of his underlings to do that to her, he had to remind him of what was at stake if he flaunted his leadership role so half-heartedly.

 

“You really think someone from my family did this?” Ran asked, justifiably annoyed, he had hoped Zahhak knew the limits of their friendship by now; Guess not. “I feel for your loss, Zahhak, however I think your grief is clouding your judgement.”

 

Zahhak blinked in surprise. “I think my judgement is not in question here.” He answered coldly, disregarding all previous emotions. “You're quite notorious for letting your family's actions slip past you, Ran.”

 

Ran blinked in surprise. “That so?” He answered coldly, disregarding all previous empathy. “Know what you're accusing my family of, Zahhak. A petty squabble or two is not something you should concern yourself with.”

 

Zahhak clenched his fists, and the sound of the leather gloves pierced through the emptiness of the cold garage. “Sharun is dead , Ran.” He said aggressively. “This is not a squabble, this is not a loss of honor, I will never see one of my own again.”

 

Ran wiped some sweat off his forehead, having finished his most recent motorcycle, he was finally ready to focus only on Zahhak. “If there's anything I can do, I will, but I already asked everyone; and I mean everyone .” He told him. “As leader of this wolfpack, I have to believe them at their word.”

 

“I hope you understand that your words haven't convinced me of their innocence.” Zahhak stepped forth, fixing his gloves and pulling Ran's face so he'd stop looking at that damn motor. “I'd like to ask them myself. It's the least you can do.”

 

“... Can't let you do that.” Ran frowned. 'If they lied, I'll find out.” He answered, leaning back against the motorcycle, Zahhak's hand still holding tightly onto his chin. “But if I set you loose upon them, they'll know their leader lost faith in them, even the innocent ones.”

 

“I see.” Zahhak looked to the ground, letting go of Ran as the strength in his arm faded away. He took a deep breath. 

 

“Zahhak. I know how you fee-” Ran tried to say, but he was interrupted by something quick, something fierce, something filled with rage and betrayal. “Agghh- Zahhak!”

 

Zahhak looked at his fist, feeling no remorse even as the taller other leader’s face switched from disbelief to anger.

 

“If you insist on prioritizing your leadership's role over this thing we have, then so shall I.” He answered calmly, flexing his fingers as the leather glove continued to make that violent sound he hated. “I was foolish for thinking you'd understand the position I'm in.” He sighed. “I should've known better than to consult you first. You’re so unaware how your family only believes in one law in life; it's insulting.”

 

“Before I take a swing at that face of yours you believe nobody can touch, you may as well tell me.” Ran stood up, putting back on his cap that fell to the ground. “What law is that?”

 

“Asking for forgiveness is much easier than asking for permission.” Zahhak said, glaring down, before taking out his phone and turning it to show Ran the picture he received this very same morning.

 

Ran couldn't believe his eyes. He recognised those jerseys, the blue jackets Amid made for each of his family members, leaving the street where Sharun was found the next morning. “This…” He took a deep breath, trying to think logically. “This doesn't prove anything. You can't even make out their faces!”

 

“What do you think my investigation is for?” Zahhak put the phone back in his pocket. “You should consider this an honor. I'll be cleaning up your mess for you.”

 

“Zahhak…”

 

Seeing his pained expression, Zahhak closed his eyes. A pause lingered between them, until he offered Ran a hand. “There is only one mutual rule of ours I will agree to.”

 

Ran's eyes opened wide, he immediately understood what Zahhak was referring to. “A race?”

 

“If you win, I'll allow you to join me in this investigation. I promise not to ask any one individual in your family questions without you by my side.” He smiled, especially so when Ran took his hand. “Of course, you must beat me first.”

 

Ran felt a sudden happiness grow inside him. “Done deal.” He answered, picking up his bag of tools and clasping onto both of Zahhak's shoulders. “Did you bring her with you? Let me give her a look over, I don't want to have you complaining later that your bike wasn't in optimal condition when you bite the dust later.”

 

“If you insist.” Zahhak replied, lifting his keys in the air before letting it drop in Ran's palms. “She’s right outside. I'll buy you something from Beehoo's, as an apology for that punch.”

 

Ran rolled his eyes. “You weren't wearing your knucklehead gloves today.” He laughed, twirling around the keys around his finger. “I was half expecting it.”

 

Just like that, their fight was settled as easily as it started.

 

Zahhak left for an hour, and returned just in time for Ran to boast how he already finished it in half an hour and had enough time to go out looking to invite his family.

 

A race between the two best bikers in Nata Prefect was always a spectacle to watch, so enough people showed up to form a rally.

 

They wanted to settle the race on that same day.

 

Ran still remembers it clearly, the shock on everyone's faces, the anger directed towards him, the shouting of the audience, the fist fight that started between the two gangs. 

 

If he wasn't alone he could've put a stop to it. He could put his own family in check, and Zahhak could talk sense into his people. However…

 

Hasol trembled, her voice filled with anger as she cursed his name while on the ground. Yoonryoung had words in mind too, but she followed Zahhak's example to perfection and wouldn't insult the person he considered a friend.

 

He slowly walked over, pushing away anyone who wouldn't step back, his eyes locked onto the quiet emotionless expression on his friend's face.

 

He had grown so used to it, so much so that everything seemed normal, but even then every fiber of his soul yelled at him that everything was not okay.

 

“Zahhak.” He quietly whispered. “Zahhak.” He repeated. “Zahhak..!” He began to run, ignoring everyone's attempts to block his path. “ZAHHAK!” He yelled, landing on his knees and lifting him up into his arms.

 

He carried him all the way to the nearest hospital, each second flashing through his mind felt like an eternity. Zahhak was soundless, lifeless, but he was breathing; and that was all that mattered in this instant.

 

As for how the accident happened, when he personally fine tuned his motorcycle, was something for Ran in the future to worry about. 

 

In that moment it wasn't even burned into his mind like it would be in the near future.

 

It took Zahhak a whole week to regain his consciousness. He wasn't a reckless driver, but even he was known to push himself when racing Ran. 

 

The first thing he saw upon opening his eyes were the pure white hospital walls. He couldn't move his limbs yet, he couldn't even flex his fingers, all he could do was move his gaze to the seat next to his bed.

 

“It's you.” He spoke, hurting his throat in the process. “Yoonryoung.”

 

Her eyes made no secret of the fact she was close to bursting into tears, she decided to leave the task of shedding tears to Hasol. “My lord.” She said, always insisting on using those respectful titles.

 

“Inform me.” Was all Zahhak said, he did not yet have the strength to say more, but he would listen, he had to know. His mind was blank. 

 

“Despite everyone's protests, after the accident, Ran rushed over to a hospital with you in his embrace.” She said, helping him drink some water. “...Ran stepped down from his position and now Amid is currently overseeing things.”

 

Zahhak nodded, as much as he could anyway. “Continue.”

 

“...All of our own have laid the blame on Ran.” She said, taking her seat again. “His family insisted on his innocence, so he chose to forfeit his role before another war would break out.”

 

“...All of our own?” Zahhak said, to which Yoonryoung averted his gaze. She knew what question he wanted to ask, and her silence answered it for her. “You think he is responsible too.”

 

“You've taught me to only adhere to the facts.” She answered. “He handled your motorcycle right before the race took place. The stakes were high, I fail to see why you think he didn't make a desperate choice.”

 

Zahhak was silent for a few minutes. He opened his mouth again, deciding against his better judgement and risking his health further to explain something about his relationship with Ran that only the two of them were aware of.

 

“Our races are a formality. Nothing more.” He smiled. “Ran hasn't ever beaten me in a race, not once from that hellish middle school road to now. So, why did he accept my proposal without a second thought?”

 

Yoonryoung’s eyes widened in shock. “I can't think of an answer that would satisfy you.”

 

“To me, the finish line is of no importance, his conviction is all I care about.” Zahhak coughed, but ensured Yoonryoung that he was fine. “...He was simply unaware of the sins of his family. I won't fault him for that. That's why he accepted our race, he knew I would help him if he did. The outcome was decided before we even started our engine.”

 

“I never realised.” Yoonryoung held tightly onto his hand and apologised.

 

“Tell me.” Zahhak looked at her, a hopeful expression on his face. “I hope he hasn't visited too often. He tends to allow his guilt to consume him alive.”

 

“Ran..?” Yoonryoung swallowed her breath before looking directly into her boss' eyes. “After bringing you here, few have seen him through the town. If he visited you, I'd have no clue about it.”

 

Zahhak looked near the window, recognising the keys to his motorcycle on the counter, he knew there was only one person in the whole world who dared touch his keys. It was the same person who gave him that little white wolf keychain that he always kept attached to his chains.

 

“Leave Ran be.” Zahhak suddenly ordered. “He's of no concern to your gang.” He told her, to which she nodded, before realising what he had said. “As of today, you are taking my place, Yoonryoung. This is non-negotiable.”

 

“But my lord!” She called for him, but he shook his head. 

 

“I'm in no position to guide all of you. Just follow the rules as you always have and it will all work out in the end.” He took her hand and gently squeezed it. “My friend needs me. I can't prioritize the gang over him, not again.”

 

The next few weeks, Yoonryoung tried her best to handle the gang Zahhak left behind, and quickly learned it was no easy task. She wondered what he was thinking, but knew better than to defy him, he had a talent for making the right decisions.

 

Zahhak could no longer ride his motorcycle, yet regardless of that fact he always kept those keys by his side, attached to his necklace like a spell of tragic friendship.

 

He would ignore gang squabbles, even those including his own, and only cared to find one man.

 

In the end, he found him.

 

“Ran.” He called. In the alleyway, Ran had lifted a guy by his collar, with his fist in the air even as his target was unconscious. He chose to drop him, but did not turn around to face the one calling him. 

 

“You're back on your feet.” Ran chuckled, dropping the boy. “That's good, your gang needs you.” He put on his cap again, picking it up from the ground, clearly he had taken a punch from whoever was on the ground. “Or that's what I would say, if you didn't step down.”

 

“I’d have liked to say I invented the idea, but that’s not quite right, is it?” Zahhak replied. “There’s little need for a motorbike gang leader that can’t ride.” He tilted his head, hoping to catch a glimpse of Ran’s expression. It was futile, he already started walking away.

 

“There’s no need for one who’d take away another person’s ability to ride.” Ran answered, slowly outpacing the only recently recovered Zahhak. He noticed this, and it pained him, he was easily conflicted whether to use this to his advantage or slow down, but by the time he could make a decision Zahhak had already caught up and taken a hold of him.

 

“What an odd thing to say, I don’t recall anyone taking away my ability to ride besides myself.” He said, engaging in this game of push and pull all while Ran tried his hardest not to worsen his injuries or inflict one anew. “I got myself into that crash. It was a possible and completely natural result of my choice to race you, as such the consequences are mine and mine alone to bear.”

 

“You know as well as I do that yours was tempered with.” Ran clapped back.

 

“Yes, and it would be easy to pin the blame on you; if I were truly that much of a fool.” Zahhak finally turned him around and grabbed him by his wrists, revealing many things such as the flushed expression on his face and the tired eye bags. All signs of someone that cries themselves to sleep as their only antidote to sleeplessness. “You're obsessed with your craft. You'd never sabotage that passion of yours, or me, for that matter.”

 

Ran's eyes were watery, but he wouldn't cry in front of the other leader. He kicked himself just for almost giving in. Nevertheless, he took off his cap and sat down, carrying a sad puppy's expression as his friend joined him.

 

“I don't know where to start.” Ran said, fidgeting with the accessory. He looked at Zahhak's legs, and shifted over, inviting him to take a seat. “Don't push yourself… And how are those legs of yours anyway?”

 

Zahhak exhaled as he sat down. “Well enough to track you down.” He firmly placed a hand on his shoulder. “It would've been easier if you had just come to the hospital instead.”

 

Ran let out a single laugh. “Easier on who?”

 

“Good question.” Zahhak smiled. “I heard Amid took over your..?”

 

Ran hid his face in his hands. “I didn't know who else to trust.” He turned to Zahhak and pouted. “You aside. Don't look at me like that.”

 

“Like what?” Zahhak smirked, pretending he wasn't aware of his good looks, which may have even increased after recovery depending on who you asked. “Alright. You made the best possible choice, don't beat yourself up over it.”

 

“Amid told me to give you her regards.” He said, and Zahhak thanked him for delivering her message. Ran then placed his hand on Zahhak's thigh, a curious look on his face. “The nurse wouldn't let me, but can I have a look..?”

 

Zahhak hung his head but quickly gave in, and placed both of his legs on Ran's lap. He pulled his pant leg up and revealed the few desperate wounds that didn't need to be wrapped in bandages. 

 

“You know as well, or perhaps even better than I do, that I'd chase the smallest possibility to ride again.”

 

Ran massaged them, as gently as possible, not even a motorcycle on the verge of falling apart has ever been treated as carefully as he was caressing his friend's legs.

 

“I planned not to see you again until I found out who did this.” Ran said. “I asked everyone. Of course, nobody admitted to anything.” He trembled, unable to control his emotions. “Someone's lying. I just don't know who.”

 

“Ask ahead.” Zahhak already knew what Ran wanted to ask, or had a vague idea, at least. “You already know the answer though.”

 

Ran pulled Zahhak closer and pushed his legs off the bench, until they both sat down glued to each other. “I need your help.” Ran pleaded. “You can tell when someone's lying… I cannot.”

 

In response to this, Zahhak pulled out his phone. “A joyous collaboration, just like old times.” He smiled, turning on the photography app and raising the phone in the air. “I must say I like that teary eyed expression of yours, it's quite photogenic.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, get it all out.” Ran hung his arm around Zahhak's shoulder, and looked into the camera with a flustered face. “I never know what to do or what face to make when someone takes a photo.”

 

“Not many can manage to remain calm and composed in my presence, don't feel too bad.” Zahhak teased, pulling him closer so they'd both fit in the frame. “Just look at my face, I'll wear a proper smile for the both of us.”

 

Ran jabbed him for that comment, knowing he couldn't avoid it. Zahhak flinched, and tried to move past it just as fast, but Ran chose to do it again, having already noticed a weakness of his.

 

“Ran.” Zahhak warned, shifting away from him, but his friend immediately went after him. “H-How am I supposed to take a picture like this?”

 

Ran shrugged, before saying “I'm sure you'll figure it out.” He continued jabbing him, relishing in this newfound… information.

 

Zahhak tried his hardest to push those overly curious hands away as they invaded his private space. “Enough- I apologise!” He said again, but his warnings were ignored. “Ra- Rahahan!”

 

“What?” Ran locked Zahhak's leg with his own, enjoying this method of revenge. He tickled him surprisingly skilfully, knowing just how Zahhak would try to dodge after years of sparring with him. “You said you'd wear a proper smile for the both of us, right? I'm just helping you along!”

 

“No such a- neheheheed!” He dropped the phone on his stomach, and Ran grabbed it before continuing his little attack. Zahhak had given up trying to escape and just hid his face behind his arms. “I yield! Understand?! Rann-hahaha- You're being unfahahair!”

 

“Ah, there you have it.” Ran climbed on top of Zahhak, ignorant of his wounds as he pulled his arms away from his face. “A genuine smile, for the both of us, at last.” His friend underneath him glared daggers into his soul but Ran cared little as he used Zahhak's hand to unlock his phone, and then opened the camera app again. “Smile for the camera Zahhak, this is a day to remember!”

 

“You're heavy.” Zahhak cheekily responded. He tried to push him off, but to no avail, he just didn't have the strength yet. “Now that you've had your fun, give it back.”

 

“About that...” Ran kept his phone out of reach until he was done sending the photos to himself, much to Zahhak's annoyance. “Almost done.” He sang, and jumped off when he received both photos.

 

Zahhak composed himself. “Unbelievable.”

 

“I'm sure a lot more people would have an easier time keeping calm and composed if they knew what I know now.” Ran crossed his arms, highly proud of himself. “But there's no fun in sharing a secret as valuable as that, so consider it safe with me.”

 

Zahhak rolled his eyes. “You're just fortunate that my strength hasn't returned. Once it has, you won't find an opportunity just like right there.”

 

“Huh.” Ran smirked. “Is that an invitation to make the most of our time together?”

 

“...Focus. We have important things to find out.” Zahhak tried to remind him, but those usually sad puppy eyes were too determined to see him happy. He had become a victim of Ran's guilt, and knew there was only one way to convince him he was truly fine. “I’ll give you two minutes… Then we really have to start our search…”

 

Ran wasted no time and pulled the rival gang leader on his lap, thinking it was easier for the both of them that way. He'd always been a good bit bigger than Zahhak, so much so that he fit just perfectly on top of him. 

 

Ran rested his chin on top of Zahhak's shoulder, with his arms around him, he poked and prodded just like before, with a few soft laughs from him putting his mind at ease.

 

As the first minute passed, Ran's tickle attack had already transformed into gentle massages. As a result Zahhak relaxed against his chest and took slow breaths that synced with each of Ran's movements. 

 

Zahhak's muscles were still sore from the physical therapy. Ran must've realised he rushed the treatment to get out of the hospital as quickly as possible, but whether this was all a trick or a happy coincidence was unbeknownst to him.

 

“Here's an idea.” Ran offered, fidgeting with Zahhak's necklace. “Let's start our search tomorrow, I think the two of us have more pressing issues to… Immerse ourselves with.”

 

Zahhak sighed. He already allowed Ran to continue manhandling him past the 2 minute limit, and it felt better than whatever physical exercise the hospital put him through. It made one think, consider, and eventually; accept.

 

Ran licked his lips in excitement. “I can't think of a better way to celebrate this joyous collaboration.”

 

Zahhak quietly groaned when he felt a kiss on the back of his neck. “Just remember to be gentle.” He pleaded, almost begged.

 

Ran chuckled at the sound of his voice, his warm breath tinteling against the fair skin. “As you wish.”

 

Alas, they both knew deep down the exact opposite was destined to happen.