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zanka was like the sun. powerful. all-encompassing. but most of all, he was hardworking. behind every test score and flawless performance, was a young boy striving for greatness.
you remember it very clearly—the day he rose above the rest of his peers, eyes glimmering with upmost confidence. he was an unstoppable force. a tidal wave of power that loomed over everybody in class. the nijiku family was destined for a life of glory. as the son, he was no different. cut from the same cloth as his sister, he had something to prove. a chair to sit on, a dream to be praised, it was woven into his blood.
it came as very little surprise when you were chosen as his arranged marriage partner. although your family held deep connections in the hells guard, they were no where near as strong as the nijiku household. and with very little heirs to take over the name, marriage was the only option left.
when you met zanka for the first time, it was clear neither of you opposed the decision. dressed in a beautiful and expensive gown, holding his hand as your family took congratulatory photos, you both knew it was for the sake of tradition. it didn’t matter if either of you had feelings for each other. your families only cared about the end goal of your marriage.
bound to him by a silver ring, your peers grew envious. at one point, you became the talk of the town. being wed to the heir of the nijiku family was no simple feat. it was great. you were promised a very good future for not just yourself, but your future children in waiting. unlike zanka, you lacked confidence in yourself. only following orders from your family, you cared less about the temptations of power. you only wanted one thing: a wish to see your family happy.
underneath the trees, you anxiously asked him: when is our wedding?
you started to fidget, carefully lowering your head around him. in front of the nijiku heir, you were just a simple noblewoman. while you were decent enough at fighting, it was no where near the expertise of everyone else around you. and yet despite your shortcomings, he raised you up by the chin, letting you meet his equal gaze. defying everything you’ve ever learned, he breathes new life into you.
in autumn, right before the summer ends, he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours. however, i won’t kiss you until you’re ready. pulling away, he left you in a state of shock. your lips trembled shyly and you smacked the side of his arm, flustered by his act.
somewhere along the line, this false love became something more. you started to hold hands during your study sessions, almost to the point it has become a regular occurrence. small pecks on each other’s cheeks started to become expected. shared glances from across the classroom and secret giggles sweetened your heart. your affection for one another started to become deathly palpable. it was tender and youthful. childish and almost rebellious at times. the only way to oppose this seemingly loveless marriage was to be so hopelessly in love with each other.
having shared your first kiss behind the schoolyard, your relationship blossomed like orchids. you began to see parts of him that no one else did. you reminisce on the time he burned the bottom of his claypot, trying to make you dinner when you were sick. his face was red up to the very tip of his ears, and it took everything inside you not to laugh away your fever.
every time you kissed the spots on his back, you bore witness to the bruises on his skin. he was showing the marks of a true hell guard. as his partner, you supported him all the way through. you’re the rock that keeps him grounded. a kind garden for him to rest his weary bones. for his wings to soar, it was you—brushing the feathered locks, you prepare him for the daunting future. you see a side to him that only the gods could fathom seeing.
when he kissed the promise ring on your finger, giving you the perfect, cheesy smile that could melt even the coldest winter storm, your heart fluttered.
at the height of your dream, everything came crashing down. after his choice during the academy’s weapon-selection class, he fled the town. he disappeared without a word to you. it was his older sister, kyouka, who came knocking on your door, revealing to you his absence. her eyes were shielded away from you, covered with one side of her hair. her expression as a mixture of shame and disappointment.
collapsing to the ground, you stared down. your body violently trembled, stomach feeling queasy with every breath, you raised your hand to your mouth, holding back your weeps. after all this time, you thought you had meant something to him.
despite waiting months, you never saw him again.
the nijiku family eventually forfeited the marriage, leaving both your families in a bitter state of anguish. with zanka now disinherited from all things royal, you were left with a hole in your heart. one that used to be filled with joyous memories of a young boy and his ambitions. you felt out of place. unsure of everything you’ve been told.
you were nothing more than a hollow shell. like a moth had crawled out of you and abandoned its home, you were empty and lost. clutching onto your family’s naginata, you said nothing when kyouka touches your shoulder. she combs through your hair, wiping the bottom of your eyelids. she lifts your head up to meet her gaze. her lips murmur to you a new kind of promise.
taking up zanka’s position, you started to train under kyouka. you quickly learned how difficult it was to keep up with his strict regime. in the morning, after breakfast, you would always study for at least two hours before class started. during your training sessions, while struggling to keep yourself awake, you had to dodge heavy gunfire from kyouka and her newly appointed team. she feared if she went too easy on you, it might cause you to stray onto zanka’s path.
while bandaging up your own wounds, you tried to contain the tears that threaten to spill. the pain was starting to subside but the ache in your muscles was still there. during these lonely nights, you still think about zanka. although kyouka dismisses him constantly as a fool, you can’t find it in yourself to resent him. you believe, to some extent, there was reason to his madness. and perhaps you were the bigger fool in believing this. biting the bottom of your sleeves, you pressed your head down against your knee, shoving down a whimper.
years went by quicker than you thought. despite never sitting on the golden throne zanka worshipped, you worked beside kyouka. that position earned you praise from your family. although you were her official right-hand woman, you were referred more often as her dog than anything else. always trailing behind her after every job, the only times you were truly alone were during your expeditions to neighboring cities.
as much as part of you wanted to accept those compliments, it never sat right with you. no matter how hard you climbed up the ranks, the sweat and tears you shed, it felt like it was never enough. it didn’t matter who saw you, even if you were the best, the world’s gaze could never compare to his.
you heard stories about a young man hunting trash beasts. someone who fit the description of your former lover. dirty blond. two-toned hair. carrying a monk’s stick. your brain was telling you forget about it, but your instincts believed those rumors. for someone who has worked hard all his life, it wasn’t a surprise to hear that zanka would eventually become a giver. you just didn’t think he would have to leave you behind to pursue this new goal.
the unfortunate truth is: you would have loved him all the same. hell guard or not, you would have done anything to stay by his side.
cutting down a man in the dead of night, you gripped him by the collar, squeezing the fabric of his clothes tightly as you wring him information. shakily, he hands you a poster, pointing at the mascot plastered on the front.
the dolls festival.
shoving the pamphlet into your pocket, you harshly dumped him onto the ground. with a cold look over your shoulder, you nod to your subordinates, allowing them to wordlessly take the man—most likely disposing his body at a local prison. whipping around your weapon, you slowly tilted your head to the sky, lips pursed in thought.
you still miss what you had with zanka. to this day, you think about the moment he shyly leaned his head against your shoulder, nervously toying with your fingers for the first time. he’d talk to you in whispers so subtle, it felt like a faraway dream. it could have been just that. a dream. even so, the cold, numbing touch of his ring stings you.
you were stopped in your tracks. looking up, you notice kyouka standing in front of you. her hands are tucked into the pockets of her coat. as per usual, her expression is unreadable. it still makes you nervous as ever. kneeling in front of her, you lower your naginata to the ground, informing her about the news regarding the terrorist device. with it possibly being in andio, the place of the doll festival, your team is quickly dispatched. before you could leave, she notices your ring.
“forget about him,” she says, dragging you off the ground. pulling you into her direction, she gripped your wrist tightly. her eyes met the silver material on your finger. it mocks her by glimmering confidently under the moon.
“okay.”
you tried not to laugh. with how blurry your life has been up to now, you forgot how kind kyouka can be sometimes. beneath her serious, hard exterior, something tells you there is more to her. perhaps, to some extent, she pities you. maybe she sees you as a sister. that lovestruck girl she grew up seeing, crushed under the weight of reality, still holding onto the past, part of her heart aches.
it doesn’t change that her brother betrayed not just you, but her as well. he took for granted everything his family created for him. all the opportunities and hours she spent raising him from the ground up—it was all for nothing. turned into dust, it was hard for the two of you to swallow the loss of zanka.
kyouka transfers you under goka’s care. while she heads to the northward, you and goka will attend the doll festival to gain intel regarding the terrorist device. your job was to keep the citizens of andio safe.
the two of you arrived in andio a few days after your meeting with kyouka. closing your eyes, you suck in a deep breath, brushing back your hair. goka walks beside you, shoulder to shoulder. using his hat to mask his identity, his gaze flickers back and forth. from the claustrophobic crowds to you, he is hyperaware of kyouka’s instructions. you had to be kept close at all times. you had an awful habit of wandering off by yourself if she isn’t around to monitor you.
. . . which was right now.
blinking, goka is astonished by your sudden disappearance shaking his head, he sighs. to think kyouka held a soft spot for you was an understatement. tuning into his choker, he speaks into it, carefully asking you about your whereabouts as he keeps a low profile. continuing to trek through the city, his troops are following close behind, marching to the beat of his footsteps.
“where did you go?”
you reply quickly, “i just wanted to explore on my own.”
“kyouka will get mad at me if you aren’t back.”
“i never did very well in crowds.” trailing behind a myriad of costumes and dolls, your fingers graze the outer railing of the city. as you walk towards the more secluded area of andio, you get a good look of the entire festival. finally given the opportunity to breathe in some fresh air, you lean against the handlebars.
“i will meet with you after finishing my own investigation. my instincts are screaming right now goka, so be wary.”
and with that, you rip off the choker from your neck. dropping it to the ground, you scan the flock of people fluttering in the direction of the main stage. as you face the other side, you let your ears fill with the song of joyous cheer.
touching your neck, you reevaluate your situation. considering the wild goose chase you’ve been sent on, you believe the terrorist device was located inside your chokers. while you were walking next to goka, you felt an eerie chill run up your spine. suspecting that you were being monitored, you quickly parted ways to cover more ground at this festival.
carefully weaving through the area, you stumble upon a small, white cat. immediately, you felt your heart beat quicken. your eyes lit up and you cautiously abandon all rationale. it wouldn’t hurt just to touch him, you thought to yourself, the doll festival is only getting started. slowly approaching the creature, you kneel down, holding out your hand.
excitingly watching as it comes closer to sniff your hand, you are unaware of a young man’s stare.
a dirty-blond figure tightens his hold over his lovely assistaff, eyes widening as he fails to catch his breath. kneeling in front of him was a familiar woman he knows all too well. your gaze was still heart-stoppingly beautiful, maybe hauntingly so. warm and tender, sweet as your kisses under the moon’s light, you cause him to stumble over his steps. the weapon beside you must have been something you chose during the assembly. a stunningly carved naginata, a tool passed down in your family for generations. he regrets not being there. after all, it looked perfect on you.
despite your elegance, your eyes are weary and tired. they’re slightly sunken as if they’ve been crying all this time.
he thinks back on the times you shared together. after becoming a full-fledged cleaner, he never forgot about you. if anything, he tried everything he could. from rubbing the back of his skin raw, to pinching the side of his palm until it was red, it never erased the guilt he’s been feeling all these years. those days spent behind the schoolyard, fingers woven together, decorating your skin with playful, delicate kisses. . . his body shakes.
suddenly, zanka is taken back to distant memory.
i don’t know where to put my hands, he said. nervously padding the side of your waist with his fingers, he doesn’t realize he’s squeezing you too hard. his emotions are all jumbled up in his throat.
you lowered your hands from his neck. trailing down from his shoulders to his forearms, you positioned his hands on your hip. your guiding touch is as warm as the morning sun. inviting and forgiving, it paints over his nervous mistakes. your love, bright as fresh honey, fuels him with confidence every time he is in your arms. he could do anything if you were there.
you’re trembling, you mumble in his ear, take a deep breath, zanka. i’m right here.
this was supposed to be a simple rehearsal of your wedding. just something small and intimate. and yet his nerves were all over the place. hearing that his family will be watching made him even more shy to kiss you, even if he’s done it almost a hundred times behind closed doors—his strive for perfection hinders him.
when the two of you finally fall into proper position, you smile at him. this reaction causes him to swallow slowly. his lips curve upwards into a timid grin. reeling you in by your hips, he presses his body flush against you. he rests his forehead on yours. feeling his hot breath on the surface of your lips, he chuckles.
i don’t know what i’d do without you.
finally, he connected your lips together. allowing him to tilt his head for a better position, you felt his nose drag against the side of your cheek. with one hand, you let your fingers rest against the side of his face, dragging alongside the bottom of his jawline. the flame in his stomach ignites at your touch. his blood melts into honey as your bodies join as one. his heart is fluttering so fast, he’s shaky. with the gentle sway of the tree guiding your motions, your voice is a mere whisper to the wind.
neither can i.
back to the present, zanka finds himself unconsciously walking in your direction. fear rides up his spine and he thinks he should stop. he should hold himself back. pull away with all the strength he has left. he has to keep running—to reject all those years of pent up guilt he housed within him. but before he could turn away, you raise your head, gaze meeting his own.
the world stops in its tracks. the rotation of heaven itself pauses. the wind that was once grazing at the side of your cheek becomes a mere itch. having sensed the tension, the young cat scurries away, disappearing into the crowded city as white noise fills both your ears. plunged beneath a sea, your emotions bubble to the surface.
zanka looks different. his eyes were much darker than you remembered, a little more lifeless, yet it still held the same tenderness you’ve seen in your dreams. aside from him being taller, his hands were a lot more calloused as well. all those days hunting trash beasts have changed him. it rewrote his dna and now, he is barely the man you saw in your arms all those years ago.
despite everything, he is still here.
at the sight of your first love, your lips feel dry and your hands become clammy. rising from the ground, you stood in front of him, a mixture of uncertainly and relief laced in your express. part of you thinks this is another wicked dream placed upon you by a cruel god. a figment of your imagination and hopes. nevertheless, you continue to fall for this temptation.
it takes everything inside you not to rush forward, to hold him in your arms just as you did all those years ago. to touch those cheeks that used to harbor colors reminiscent of cherry blossoms. you wonder if his fingers still carry the same scars he swore you healed with your lips.
for once, you genuinely smile, happy to see him once more. all those bottled up emotions are now suddenly at its peak—threatening to burst open from your heart and onto the ground. shaking as you walk towards him, the two of you lower your weapons.
blissfully, you think about finally proving kyouka wrong. he was still here. you could prove to everyone back home that there was still hope in this world. there was time for you and him to rekindle this childish love.
“zank—”
right when you are about to reach out to him, a second hand breaks through, grabbing zanka by the shoulder and pulling him away from you. surprised, you stand there, your hand still outstretched, watching helplessly as zanka is taken away by a woman with red hair. his group hurriedly vanishes into the thick crowds, avoiding your gaze and leaving you behind without a second thought.
your heart begins to ache. like poison, it seeps through your veins and drains you. tilting your head to the ground, a frown paints itself on your face. of course, you should have known this would happen. after all, seeing you was a mistake. seeing the two of you together was everything the world rejected. the thing that hurts you the most wasn’t the realization that the odds were against you—it was the fact that zanka never spared you a glance back. the odds were never in your favor to begin with.
gritting your teeth, your gaze hardens. its pathetic, you know. you’ve heard it a thousand times. chasing after a man whos abandoned all reason. its tragic. you’re tragic. you’re everything that was wrong about the old world—and that was the reason he left you behind. all the time you spent searching for him was for nothing because there was no point in coming back to you. there was no home for him left. covering your face with your hand, you laugh pitifully.
picking up your weapon, you walk away from the scene, spirit thoroughly crushed like a frail petal.
on the other side, zanka restrains an agonized sigh. his grip on his vital instrument was tighter than usual. knuckles white as snow, they tremble as he continues walking forward. his companion, riyo, looks over her shoulder. for some reason, the group was plunged into awkward silence.
although enjin wanted nothing more than to have the scene unfold by itself, something irked riyo inside. as much as she wants to chalk it up to finishing another mission on time, the hurt expression on zanka’s face makes her deathly ill. she’s seen it all too many times. there were some things people didn’t want to talk about and perhaps you were one of them. something to be left in the past, like everything else. she was acutely aware that zanka was running away from something—from you.
truth be told, he was afraid of you. scared of never being able to live up to the expectation of a great warrior, he ran away from home. he fled like a coward. for a man so deeply in love with you, he was terrified at the possibility of never being enough. he could never outweigh the beauty of your smile with his. for a fake such as himself, he was undeserving of innocent kindness.
beneath his benevolence, there was spite. he despised his classmates despite yearning for their approval. he constantly fought for praise. his appetite for greatness was sickeningly gluttonous. therefore, he could never truly be by your side. he could never be the man you always dreamed of having. not when there is so much anguish and hatred in his soul that chains him down.
he hoped that during his absence, you would find strength, even if it was out of cruelty.
knowing he wouldn’t be left off the hook, zanka sucks in a deep breath, brushing off the pressure as he always did. he cooly answers all their questions.
“she’s my fiancée.”
loud, shocked gasps fill the air. enjin’s eyes were bulging out his skull. rudo’s jaw was practically on the floor. their reaction causes zanka’s frown to deepen further. pulling down his mask, he tries to shield his face from everyone.
“you’re. . . engaged?"
“it was a family tradition.”
“when did this happen?”
“several years ago. we were kids.”
shaking off the conversation, zanka continues to walk forward, urging the rest of the group to follow and drop their remaining questions. enjin and riyo share a knowing gaze while rudo is left in the dark. the latter contemplates about zanka’s complicated history. while his other teammates shrug it off as nothing more than just history, rudo can’t help but wonder why zanka joined the cleaners in the first place, especially if he had someone waiting back at home, hopelessly in love still.
regardless, the cleaners continue with their mission, dismissing the previous encounter.
it was only after witnessing too lily’s show that the cleaners finally picked up the pieces. the mastermind behind the insane plan was mymos, a local news reporter. using the choker, he is able to control the audience—just like living dolls. rudo was nervously fidgeting with the special choker he was given by the performer. it was truly a scary thought, if they hadn’t met the information broker, they would have also been under mymo’s control.
however, the cleaners were not the only ones figuring out the puzzle. kneeling on the outskirts, you await with goka and the other hell guards. using the televisions in mymo’s room, you watch as the audience swarm the small group of cleaners, zanka included. pressing your lips tightly together, goka holds you back by the shoulder, reinstating kyouka’s orders.
as part of the hell guards, you are unable to harm any civilians. by joining this fight, you would be risking more than just death to your name. therefore, while the cleaners are handling the frontlines, the hell guards will sneak around from behind, searching for an opportunity to strike mymos and his team.
with the enemy gil handling the ranged fights, zanka took it upon himself to fight her head on. chasing her through the stadium, the two engage themselves in a vicious game of tag. a near endless storm of breaking balls swarm him. swiftly, he disperses them with his lovely assistaff. in order to prove his theory regarding gil’s vital instrument, zanka lunges his staff towards her, forcing the woman to parry with her bat. he reaches up to catch his instrument mid-air, landing on one of the handle bars.
“it looks like you can’t alter any old thing you bat hits,” zanka comments. a dark look settles upon his face, looming over gil like a lion.
despite the deathly serious expression on zanka’s face, gil is entirely unaffected. if anything, she finds his reactions awfully amusing. the cocky attitude in his voice has her thinking about all the ways she could spend crushing him. once the battle is over, the paycheck will be even sweeter.
“you’re right,” she replies, “gilmero, my vital instrument, can only turn balls into breaking balls. i’ve never tried it, but. . . ” she turns her head in zanka’s direction, grinning mischievously, "I wonder what would happen if i hit a dude in those balls?”
disgust quickly washes over zanka’s face. somehow, in some sick and twisted way, her words vaguely reminds him of a pervert he met previously. tightening his grip on his lovely assistaff, he shoots forward, intent on striking her down. cutting through a barrage of breaking balls, he slams back onto the ground, looking up at her. cool as ever, gil continues to grin.
“how long can you keep this up?” she laughs, “they’re not aiming for your stick. i ordered my balls to hit you. once i give them the other, i don’t control them anymore. those balls want to hit some part of your body. . . ”
a series of balls rain down on him. similarly to meteor strikes, they shatter on the ground, creating craters along the stadium. nevertheless, zanka flickers his weapon, twirling his staff between his fingers. with a cut here and there, he splits the breaking balls with ease.
“if they ain’t balls no more, your power doesn’t work either.”
gil’s expression finally morphs into one of frustration and annoyance. “you’re one of those snooty elite kids. the ones who are all ‘i didn’t study’ and get a perfect score on the test.”
“yeah? and you’re almost out of balls.” he replies, “shame. they made for some good training.”
“i’m never out of balls! after all, i can turn any spherical object into a breaking ball.” reeling back her bat, she winds it up, “so as long as i have the energy, the fungoes never ends!”
continuing her endless volley of breaking balls, zanka can only cut through so many. it’s been a while since he has practiced with kyouka, but his instincts were still sharp as ever. focused on cutting through as many balls as possible, he realizes too late that a few started to ricochet off the railings.
before zanka could turn around, a figure slides up behind him. spinning their nagainata, they slice through gil’s breaking balls. they fall audibly to the ground in two halves. surprised by the sudden intrusion, gil raises her hand up, squinting her eyes as she focuses on her sights on the newcomer.
“well, if it isn’t the hell guards’ dog!” mymos, having noticed your introduction, gleefully claps his hands, “how lucky we are for you to join us!”
gil shouts from the very top of the seats, “two on one isn’t very fair, you know!” regardless of the change, she reels back her baseball bat, shooting another rain of breaking balls in your direction.
using your hand, you push zanka off to the side, causing him to stumble over himself. sliding your hand against the long pole of your weapon, you readjust your position. without breaking a sweat, you quickly cut through her attacks. gil’s eye narrows in on a stray ball, aimed for your ankle. following her line of sight, you catch her sly attempt. sliding your polearm downwards, you interrupt her attack using the blunt side of your weapon. before she could register your movements, you darted towards her.
with your naginata’s long reach, you pierced through the surface of her clothes. gil flinches in response. shoving you back with a kick, she shoots another baseball in your way. knocking them away, you close off the distance. shifting the weight of your naginata, you use the blunt end to strike her stomach, effectively slowing her down.
gil clutches onto her abdomen, looking down to see a brightly colored bruise on her skin, she grits her teeth. “i didn’t sign up to fight a hells guard. beating her up is going to be real trouble. are you going to increase my pay?”
mymos, still sitting in his protected bubble made by felix, boisterously laughs. rising up from his imaginary seat, he brings up the mic to his lips. “of course! i’ll double your pay if you kill her!” he points a finger directly at you, motioning with a bang, “besides, i want to know more about miss-doggy here!”
“you aren’t the flashy type,” he brushes a finger up to his cheek, “so why did you come out?”
“come on, work with me here!”
chewing the inside of your mouth, you resist the temptation of a response. you knew that by giving mymos anything, he would use it against you. running forward, you remain focused on the task at hand. eliminate any threats to the civilians and buy time for goka and the others to arrive.
at the very least, that’s what you told yourself. hitting one breaking ball after another, your arms start to burn with exhaustion. breathing heavily, you can feel yourself slowing down. mymos tunes in with a keen eye, noticing a slight sheen on your finger. he slowly and tauntingly licks his lips. raising up his mic higher, he grins.
“does it have something to do with that ring on your finger?”
gil aims a ball straight at your hand, causing you to lose your grip on your naginata. with a clatter of your blade on the ground, you clutch your injury, biting back a whimper. your hand felt as if you had shot it through a bucket of scorching water. this moment quickly gives gil an opportunity. with your body freezing up, she launches another breaking ball. your eyes can only grow wider in fear as a shiver rips through your spine.
“perhaps. . . the answer is right in front of us!”
right when her breaking ball is about to collide with you, a force stops it. despite the noisy background of mymos shouting, you could hear a mutter. standing in front of you was zanka. he whirls his lovely assistaff, protecting you from what felt like gil’s sixth barrage of breaking balls. pressing your lips together, you huff. instead of the usual stoic or annoyed look, his face is unreadable. as you straighten out your muscles, you try to stand tall beside him.
mymos eagerly announces, “what a beautiful reunion! husband and wife, isn’t that so sweet? the two of you make such a cute couple.”
“but i don’t see a ring on his finger. . . could it be?” he jumps up and down, fanning his face, “the two of you aren’t engaged anymore? what a shame! what happened between the two of you?” you attempt to drown out the sound of his tapping shoes. the echo of his voice becomes louder with each passing second. it engulfs even your own thoughts.
“did you get abandoned, (name)?”
biting down on your lip, you picked up your naginata. hurriedly, you slice through another set of breaking balls. putting your back against zanka’s, you ignore the harsh sting of warmth from his body. your intrusion has him flinching before he narrows his eyes in mymo’s direction. the two of you began to work in harmony, using both of your polearms, you deflect the young woman’s attack. with you protecting him from behind, zanka carves out a path towards gil, lunging forward.
as gil is reeling back another set of balls to throw, mymo and felix suddenly interrupt your fight. an audible crash is heard when you look up. the paper ball created by felix’s letter comes into view. he is shouting from within, surprised by riyo’s recklessness. the latter hops down from the top of the railing, whipping around her scissors wildly as she smiles down on your group.
“riyo takes the mound! and throws a pitch!”
despite gil’s extremely light tap on felix’s ball, it still makes contact with her vital instrument. it fires like a meteor in your path. you’re horrified when you see the ball quickly approach you. the two of you immediately start running the opposite way.
“whoa! whoaa! what are ya doin’ riyo! that ball is coming straight for us!”
as if things couldn’t get any more insane, riyo’s vital instrument collides with the racing ball. holding it open with her leg and arm, she skids several feet behind, trying to cut through felix’s massive shield.
“zanka stay right there!” riyo looks over her shoulder, “i’m going to cut this thing! back me up from behind?”
you stand amazed, watching as zanka darts over to riyo’s side. he slams his lovely assistaff into the ground, placing both his feet on either side to slow their momentum. you cover your ears at the screeching sound of metal hitting concrete. wincing, you squint your eyes, trying to see through the strong gust of wind.
“when ‘love’ is too strong, then it’s easy for cracks to get in.”
terrifying, riyo slices through felix’s indestructible shield. the impact left a scar on the ground. a low growl erupts from the earth. your surroundings start to crumble in all sorts of directions. as felix’s shield dissolves into sheets of paper, zanka rushes over to gil, hitting her on the back of the neck to knock her out. without a second to waste, he ties her up with loose pieces of rope at the scene.
when zanka turns around to examine the damage, he sees you in the corner, still holding onto your weapon. you nervously swallow, a cold shiver gliding down your arms. after all the adrenaline in your body wore off, your body was starting to fall apart from the inside. all the emotions you were holding back was showing its cracks. gathering up your things, you rush towards the darkness, hoping to conceal yourself from the rest of the cleaners.
wiping your eyes with the back of your hand, you race through the stadium. you were running so quickly, you could feel the burn in your lungs sink in. right before you could exit the area, a hand grabs at your wrist. pulling you back in their direction, you quickly lower your head, turning away from them. despite not seeing their face, you knew immediately the person in front of you. just by their hand alone, their callouses and gentleness, you could already imagine him. squeezing the muscles in your wrist, he pleads.
“don’t go,” he mutters, “please stay, (name).”
his words make you feel weak to your knees. even though it has been several years since you’ve heard it, his voice still holds power over you. biting your lip, you attempt to pull your hand away from him. one look at his pitiful face and you knew you wouldn’t be able to leave. out of fear, you shut your eyes, blinding yourself to his hurt expression.
“please.”
it is too much. everything right now is too much. seeing him. the battle. the debris. the noise. it was overwhelming you. every thought you have right now is jumbled up. the cleaners. your duty. hells guard. you could feel yourself getting light-headed just trying to sort them all out. your breaths are rapid and unstable—leaving you unable to think properly.
part of you wants to see him. to hold him. to kiss him. to regain all those memories. you want to see the eyes of the man you loved so dearly. and yet the other half of you wants to leave. to forget about him. to ignore all the hurt he has caused in your life.
you want to know why he left—if being a cleaner was all he ever wanted, why couldn’t he have taken you with him? if freedom was what he wanted, what does that mean for you? shaking, you restrain yourself from breaking down in tears. if freedom is what he wanted, did that mean, you were in the way?
ripping your arm away from him, you run forward, creating distance between you and him. balling up your hands into fists, your chest heaves. “why didn’t you look back?” your voice shakes before you could realize it, “why did you leave?”
zanka, unsure of himself, can only whisper his reply: “i had to.”
“you should have said something.”
“i was scared.”
“. . . what were you scared of?”
your question sends a shock wave to his body. zanka lowers his head, guilt running through his veins faster than blood. he doesn’t know how to express it. all those years of feeling like he was never enough, he can’t just tell you it was because he was scared of you. after all, you’ve been nothing but sweet to him. sweeter than honey itself. brighter than any star in the galaxy. to say you were the catalyst of it all makes him want to stab himself in the chest.
“everything,” he starts, his hands growing clammy as seconds pass by, “i’m just an ordinary guy.” with a self-deprecating laugh, zanka scratches the back of his neck, “i wasn’t strong enough to sit on the golden throne.”
his explanation is half-hearted. after all these years of being apart, fighting for your position in the hells guard, doing everything you could to repair the broken pieces of your heart, the man in front of you could barely spare a few words of regret.
“so you just left, like that?”
“it’s more complicated.”
“then tell me!” you cry out, dropping both your arms to your side. with your teeth biting deep into your lip, you could taste the metallic flavor of blood. a glossy sheen runs over your eyes and you find it harder to breathe. “i don’t understand anything if you don’t tell me. i don’t get it—i don’t get you.”
“i’m saying that i was too weak!” he shoots back, voice raising an octave higher.
“i can’t be the guy you end up with. unlike other people, i’m not that great. i’m no genius. just an ordinary guy–” he breathes in, “i’m just a half-baked fake trying to get by.”
his final words are dying. “you can’t seriously expect to be with someone like me.”
clutching onto the fabric of your clothes, you laugh pathetically. “and yet, what if i did? what if, all this time, that’s all i ever wanted?”
“then, would you have loved me if i was nothing?” zanka roars, unable to control his feelings from bursting out of his throat. his body was in fight or flight mode right now. struggling to keep up with his racing heart, he heaves. “if i wasn’t a nijiku or a genius, would you have loved me?”
"i always have!" you scream back, whipping around to face him while tears stream down your face. "before everything, before the tests, before our marriage—when you failed over and over again, practice after practice—i was always there!"
“you can’t say i didn’t love you then!”
your cries feel hot and weary, decades of pent up frustration and fears exploding mercilessly. “i loved you even when you failed. i loved you even when you succeeded. day after day. night after night. i loved you regardless of everything!”
“i saw how hard you worked. all those sleepless nights, the pain and blood, i know it because i’ve been there!” holding up your naginata to his throat, your grip violently trembled. you hesitate over your words, eyes pitifully crumbling into specks of tears ready to drop, “i’ve seen the hardships you faced before, the pressure, the scrutiny, the insults, the things that would make any person fall to their knees!”
rearing your voice, you inhale: “someone like you could never be a fake to me!”
"the zanka i knew would never let something like this stop him!"
at this very moment, you were practically offering your heart to him. having ripped it out from your chest, you expose your weaknesses to the very man who hurt you. its a foolish endeavor. one that would leave you broken hearted for the rest of your life. if he ever wanted to, he could crush your heart right then and there.
letting go of your weapon, zanka flinches at the audible clang. falling to the ground, you weep loudly, allowing your jumbled up feelings flow from your eyes like waterfalls.
“i can’t understand you if you don’t tell me.” your voice is shakier than the ground itself, “the only thing i ever wanted was to love you.”
zanka immediately pauses. his brain and heart comes to a screeching halt. he could feel the corners of his eyes grow wet. your words have him feeling like he just got hit by a giant truck. clamping down with his teeth, he curses himself out. perhaps, after all this time, he had gotten it all wrong.
it’s true: he’s not strong enough. mymo said it best. despite everything he’s worked for, all the trash beasts he’s gone through, the bruises and blood, he kept getting bested by jabber wonger. he’s an ordinary guy fighting against natural-born geniuses. a guy like that could amount to nothing.
and yet in front of you, he was everything.
that’s when he realized it. he always wanted to be loved and you were always willing to love. you were two magnets destined for each other. circling around in its magnetism, orbiting each other’s worlds, never too far yet never too close, just barely within reach of each other. if he had just given you a chance—a moment to spare, an opportunity to turn around and face the right way, he would have seen the truth in your love.
dropping his vital instrument to the ground, he slowly approaches you. like comforting a scared animal, he carefully wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his warm chest and squeezing you tightly. as you start to hiccup, he holds you closer. burying his face into your neck, he inhales the familiar scent of jasmine.
“i’m sorry,” a whimper escapes him, “i’m so sorry.”
“i’m sorry for not being enough—”
“just stop,” raising your fists, you lightly punch his back. gripping his uniform tightly, you allow yourself to cry freely into his arms. “stop talking to yourself like that. i hate it. i hate it when you talk badly about yourself.”
“i know,” zanka pats your back, running his fingers down your spine. “i get it.”
a sniffle escapes you, “i hate when you don’t tell me anything. when you don’t tell me what’s on your mind, i can’t help you.” your lips hover over your next words. as you gasp for air, zanka holds you tighter. “if kyouka was giving you a hard time, i would have done anything to help. even though she and everyone else in your family scares me, it would have been worth it.”
“i just want you to tell me. if you’re struggling, i’ll be there. if things start to get hard, i’ll help lift the burden. when you feel like giving up, i’ll keep walking forward with you,” pressing your nails against his shoulder, you speak with profound commitment. “so don’t say you’re not enough. don’t call yourself a fake.”
zanka’s words come out slow, almost tentatively. “then, what should i call myself?”
“a real hero.”
“if you lose, as long as you try your best, the people will still see a hero.” you lean your head against the crook of his neck, “i still see you as one.”
“even after all this time?”
“mhm.”
“right now?”
“right now.”
instead of mulling over your words, he finds that his heart is beating a million times faster.
zanka has heard many things in his life. from his siblings calling him a failure and a sore spot in the family, to the endless taunts his classmates gave him, it never compared to the way you called him a hero. just the word itself, hero, brings a tear to him. it reminds him that despite everything, there were still people looking up at him. even his shotty apprentice, the one enjin dumped on him, sees him with pride. at the end of the day, he was still somebody.
“idiot.”
“you’re calling me an idiot, especially after you called me a hero?”
“you’re a giant, stupid idiot.”
this time, he sighs with relief. feeling the immense pressure of a thousand moons lifting off of him. brushing back your hair, his expression morphs into an amused one. “is this idiot allowed to kiss you?”
“we can’t get together just yet,” you hiccup, “not when we only started seeing each other right now.”
“is that a no?”
“how could you joke right now?” pulling on his uniform, you invoke a light-hearted chuckle from zanka.
“a friend told me you have to laidback.”
slowly, he cranes his head downwards, swallowing your hiccups and cries in its entirely. with tears decorating your waterlines, you can’t help but smile. just as you remembered, his lips are still slightly chapped, most likely from his terrible habit of biting down. when you try to pull away for air, he goes back to chase after you. drinking in all your gasps, you find that the world becomes quieter for the two of you.
it takes a few hits to his shoulder before he finally releases you. but it was too soon to be away from you, so instead, he presses his forehead against yours, staring deep into your eyes as you shiver. you trail down the side of his neck, noticing a thin, silver chain around the base. reaching forward, you untuck the jewelry from his clothes, revealing the same ring on your finger.
“i couldn’t let it get dirty,” zanka huffs, “you know how places here can get.”
smoothly, he takes your hand into his, intertwining your fingers together before kissing your ring. you hate to admit it, but even to this day, he still acts like the cheeky boy from your schoolyard.
“you’re still the only one for me,” you mumble.
“i know.”
using one hand to tuck underneath his jaw, you tilt your head to the side, closing the distance between your lips. unlike earlier, he follows your gentle pace. letting you take the reigns, your fingers tuck themselves deep into his dual-toned hair. his hands stay at your hips, gently guiding you impossibly closer to him. just like magnets, you couldn’t resist his pull.
after what seems like an endless amount of kissing, a cough interrupts.
“we’re still in a middle of a battle and the two of you are making out like youngsters. no more trouble in paradise i see.” enjin comments, leading to you and zanka immediately pulling away from each other. embarrassed, you shield your face with the back of your hand.
“if you’re done loverboy, we need to catch mymos. i suspect he’s in contact with the choker maker right now.”
after getting caught by enjin, zanka’s ears are dyed like cherry blossoms. with a laugh at the very tip of your tongue, you are reminded fondly of your past. without a second to waste, zanka lifts himself up. turning to face you, he opens up his hand, grinning.
this time, he’ll make things right.
“come with me?” he says, nervously testing the waters of your boundary.
his heart melts at the sight of your smile. its wide and he could finally see your teeth peeking through. a true, genuine expression of love and acceptance. one that you’ve been holding back all these years—waiting for this perfect moment to take place. taking his hand, you let him pull you up from the ground. holding onto each other’s weapons, you stare up at him, face equally as pink.
“whatever comes, we’ll face it together.”
spoken like a true hero, he guides you towards the stadium, welcoming you into his world. and while things are far from perfect, he promises you that he’ll stay by your side, just he should have all these years.