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"Have you ever been bested by a newcomer?" Kyoka asks, and Enjin looks at her from the corner of his eye, slowly nursing his drink. For her part, Kyoka slowly spins her glass with her fingers, thinking how to put into words her thoughts. "Say you're at the top, and then, someone, out of nowhere, beats you in all the things you thought you were the best of."
Enjin hums in thought. "Can't say I have. Being bested in all things? Sounds rough."
"My brother, Zanka." She starts, giving a furtive glance to the Cleaner that's sat next to her. It had not been hard to find him, once she had started asking for a blond man with tattoos. The Cleaner emblem on his clothes gave him away, too. "Did you see him in the battlefield, with the Beasts? He was the one carrying—" She clenches her teeth for a moment, swallows down the conflicting emotions that rise, "—a stick."
The image still infuriates Kyoka to no end. To see Zanka, holding onto that stupid stick so firmly. It was even more infuriating to see he had managed to turn such a pitiful looking thing into a weapon. There was no denying it, Zanka's skills had polished that stick into something formidable. In Zanka's hands, within the scope of his skills and ambition, the stick stood on par with other pole arm weapons. Kyoka had seen it, Zanka's determination to prove the stick's worth. A staff, Zanka had corrected her once, when she had wondered out loud why had Zanka not parted ways with the stick in order to pick up a proper weapon.
Enjin snorts, shaking his head before taking a sip from his drink.
"I saw him alright. Seemed a little foolish to be in that place with... that for a weapon. Considering... well, Hell Guard and all. He knew how to use it, though. Kept up with you guys, and us."
Kyoka's eyes narrow, and her grip tightens on the glass in her hand. Zanka must be wanting the ridicule of his peers and fellow community, considering how staunch he was on his stance of keeping that "staff" as his chosen weapon. He could do so much, be so much, if only he wasn't stubborn. If only he opened up his options— if Zanka so much as wanted it, he could have any other weapon. It was worrisome, to Kyoka, to see him so attached to that damn stick. To see how much Zanka seemed to polish the stick's potential, as the stick did Zanka's.
Even if Zanka's initial goal was to "prove himself" by impairing his potential with such low-brow choice of weapon —not that Kyoka would ever dare call it that, even if the stick kept up with actual weapons—, Kyoka still was not sure how to feel about it entirely. While it did, in fact, push Zanka to train harder, to give it his best, to find ways to make such useless object work, Kyoka knew it would be a matter of time, before Zanka fell through a path she would rather he not go. A path the Cleaner next to her had taken.
The damned stick had pushed Zanka to be better, as well as the newcomer that had recently joined the Academy, but Kyoka's heart couldn't help but fret about the implications of that. She had never seen Zanka so eager to be better, had never seen him burn with such passion.
"It's self-imposed." Kyoka amends, and Enjin raises a brow her way. "The stick. He says to get better, to push his skills further by a lack of proper weapon. This new classmate of his, she..." Kyoka sighs, prepares herself to open in ways she would never show anyone else. "She's bested Zanka in all Zanka thought himself to be the best off."
"Yikes." Enjin says, hunching over further into the bar's counter, head slightly turning to better face Kyoka. "Can't imagine how that'd feel for him. And your brother, to boot?" Enjin snickers. "You Nijiku are always so harsh on yourselves, you know?"
Kyoka shoots him a sharp glare. While she might have shared a few jobs on the occasion with the Cleaners, particularly this one, there was no previous history that should allow him to speak to her like that, with such casualness and freedom.
"It's the Hell Guard standard, nothing harsh about wanting to meet them."
Enjin smiles up to her, as if knowing, as if he could see beyond Kyoka's words, so rehearsed and well-known. A script, an ideology.
"Well, pardon me. I just thought that, after seeing your brother hit literal rock-bottom, I had a leg to stand on. But it's good to see him back up on his feet, don't get me wrong."
"What?"
Enjin shrugs, motions towards the counter with his forefinger, "At the very bottom. That's where I first found him, in my last visit."
Kyoka frowns, puzzled. She catches the twitch in Enjin's lips, amusement and surprise not hidden. As if he wanted to laugh.
"You know, for someone who keeps a close eye on their sibling, how come that fact escaped you?"
"I never..." Kyoka had never known Zanka to hit rock-bottom. Zanka always kept pushing forward. He might grit his teeth, and he might shake with frustration, but he always kept at things, always pushed through his limits to grow. To picture him, curled over in defeat, was preposterous. "Zanka's always pushing himself. He never stops. I've seen him spend countless nights up, studying. He relentlessly keeps training."
Enjin's smile turns sympathetic, and Kyoka bristles. "Hell Guard standard or not, like I've said: too harsh on yourselves."
Kyoka wants to argue. She wants to bite back at Enjin's words. He's an onlooker, he doesn't know how it is here, within the Hell Guard, within her family. Enjin doesn't know how things work, and it is perhaps that that quells Kyoka's anger. Enjin doesn't know, and yet he speaks as if it were obvious, as if he'd been there, to see the struggles each of the siblings went through just to be able to keep their head held high.
Enjin is not privy to their lives. But already he knows thing about Zanka that Kyoka does not— already he seems more sympathetic and understanding of her brother than others would. Than what she would ever allow herself to be.
Last time... last time Enjin was in town, he had stopped to drop a report directly. Last time had been shortly after Hyo's entrance to the Hell Guard. It had been shortly after she had seen Zanka, working himself to the bone, training tiredlessly. Kyoka wants to kick herself for it, for fueling Zanka's desperation to reach a new standard, for praising his efforts. She had not known the desperation that fueled them. She had not known it was Zanka's struggle to not fall behind. Not for personal fulfillment, not for his own interest, but by an external factor that had skewed his perception of himself.
It made sense now, the sourness that overcame Zanka whenever his shortcomings were brought up, in comparison to Hyo. It made sense now, the warm flames that had blazed after Enjin's last visit. When Kyoka had looked at Zanka training, not with a frown but with an animated look, eager to explore his potential, she had not known it was the aftermath of Enjin finding Zanka. Of Zanka coming out of rock-bottom. By Enjin words or actions, Zanka had pushed forward.
It made sense now. She had not wanted to acknowledge it, when she had set out to find Enjin. But now it was undeniable. She wasn't blind.
"What did you think of him, out there?" Kyoka inquires, curious to see Enjin's stance on Zanka. "When he was fighting off Trash Beasts, in the mean time you and that girl caught up?"
Enjin huffs, pushes himself off the counter as he nurses the rest of his drink. His eyes shine with a hint of amusement, surely reminiscing the scene. Hell Guard, pushing off against Trash Beasts, having been caught in an ambush as they were patrolling the area. Zanka had been there, to further hone his skills, upon Kyoka's insistence. And it was undeniable, the way he had held his own, the way he made use of that beat-up stick of his. Enjin, on his way to Kamuatari, had found them, had done his job as a Cleaner.
"Not bad." Enjin nods to himself, smiling at the memory. "He seemed to be enjoying himself, I could tell. He wasn't holding back at all, and like I said, he seems to know how to use his stick."
"Staff." Kyoka says before she can stop herself, and Enjin looks at her in surprise. She huffs, does her best to not think about the slip-up.
The smile that worms its way to Enjin's face makes Kyoka want to clean it off with a punch. He seemed to see through her, through the layers Kyoka put upon.
"Sure. Staff." Enjin repeats, and Kyoka refuses to look at him, brings up her drink to her lips. "I'm sure he'll be a nice addition to the Hell Guard. I'm sure you'll be proud of him."
Enjin's words are bittersweet in Kyoka's mouth, and she hangs onto the burn of the alcohol to wash off the taste. Where to even begin. Enjin might have an understanding of Zanka, beyond the one Kyoka could. But Kyoka had known her brother since birth— for much as there was a lack of vocalization of their thoughts and emotions, when they were personal, Kyoka was well aware of it all. Zanka wasn't stoic, after all, he had not closed off the way Kyoka had learnt to do years ago. She and Goka might turn an indifferent shoulder towards Zanka, but that was just the script. That's what they knew, that's what they had rehearsed and seen for years. Zanka had always been different, always reaching for more, reaching for things beyond his grasp.
So Kyoka had not been blind, when Zanka's eyes had trailed after the Cleaner, after Enjin. She would have to be blind to not see the clear excitement in his eyes, the eagerness in the tells of his body— the way he had leaned ever so slightly forward, towards the Cleaner. Kyoka had seen it all, because Zanka had not learnt how to keep a stoic facade yet. The way his eyes would flicker back to Enjin, as if to confirm that he was still there as they made their trek back to town. Zanka's fingers would twitch with unspoken desire, and Kyoka was not blind to it all.
When they had parted ways, once Kyoka had thanked the Cleaner for helping out in defeating the Trash Beasts, Kyoka had not missed the half-step Zanka had taken towards Enjin. She had brushed it all off, had tried not to think about it when she had found Zanka, early in the morning, training with such renewed zeal. The bitterness of jealousy had crawled under her skin— because for much as Zanka trained to meet Kyoka and the family's expectations —to meet Zanka's own—, Kyoka had never seen him grinning as he did it. He had never seen him so happy and eager to strike the dummy in front of him, with that worn-out staff of his. His excitement was controlled, if he ever showed it. And now, not one full day after seeing that Cleaner in action, so much had changed. So much had changed and so little had, and Kyoka had debated the whole day how she wanted to proceed with that.
And now here she was, well aware this was not the first time Zanka had encountered Enjin. Well aware it had probably been Enjin who had renewed Zanka's desires, back then, after the last time he'd been in town. Jealousy flares in her again, a quick, flash fire that dies as soon as it starts. It was obvious to her, now, what Zanka's lingering gaze meant.
"I'm sure you will be proud of him." Kyoka says, cradling her empty glass between her hands. "Zanka will join you Cleaners, I'm sure."
"What?" Enjin's face turns towards her so fast he probably gets whiplash, but his wide eyes, the sheer confusion on his face, eases the bitterness in Kyoka.
"I know he will. He's had his sight on this newcomer, Hyo, for so long. And now he's finally shifted his attention somewhere else. To you, Cleaner."
It's bittersweet, the realization, so clear now to Kyoka. But if Zanka did fall through a path similar to Enjin, his skills would be best within the Cleaners— if, that stupid staff ended up turning into Zanka's Vital Instrument, Zanka would be better off somewhere else where his potential would not be mocked. Where the flames of his strength were allowed to grow. It would be for the best, for Zanka to join the Cleaners, much as the thought doesn't sit right with Kyoka.
There was no space for Vital Instruments within the Hell Guard, where they dealt with humans. For the Cleaners, who dealt with Trash Beast, Zanka would be a better fit. Boxing himself within his family's standard would not offer him the possibilities the Cleaners would.
"I'm sorry but..." Enjin laughs dryly in his disbelief. "You are joking, right?" Kyoka wishes she were. As things stood, it was best for Zanka if they shunned him. If Zanka ended up acting along Kyoka's intuition, it would be for the best.
Shunned off and frowned at by his family, Zanka would break free of their expectations. Kyoka knew the script, could see it so clearly in her head. If she had any hope for Zanka's fire to burn as bright as she knew it could, Zanka ought to align himself with the Cleaners. And for that Zanka's ties to the family ought to be severed. He had to start without the burdens placed upon him by his family.
"If I know Zanka at all, he'll come find you, asking to join." Kyoka sighs, turns her body on the stool she's sat to face Enjin properly. "That said, I'm making you responsible for him."
"Me?" Enjin says the word with a flinch, as if the idea itself was painful to even consider.
"Because you're responsible for whatever interest you've planted in him." Kyoka says, kicking her leg to smack Enjin's— light, barely a touch. A point across, nonetheless. Enjin scowls. "And because you've seen him at his worst, apparently."
"Not like I meant to!" Enjin hisses back. But Kyoka is not having it.
"Zanka never stops. He works himself to the bone. That's why I think he'll be a fine addition to the Cleaners." Enjin's eyes squint as he looks away, as if he were looking for a way to argue back. "Which is why you better keep an eye on him for that same reason."
"I'm not—" Kyoka doesn't let him finish as she leans forward, sliding her hand across the counter to grip at Enjin's wrist. A warning, a threat, or simply to punctuate her words, she lets Enjin decide.
"When Zanka joins your kind, keep your eyes on him. You might even learn a thing or two."
"You say that as if it's decided. I'm not the one to decide."
Kyoka lets go of Enjin, motions over the bartender to get another drink. She will need it, with all that she has to come to terms with. With Zanka's inevitable departure. She had dreaded it, back then, but now, she knows it's for the best. So long as Zanka kept in mind what he'd been taught at the Academy, what Kyoka had taught him, she had no doubt he would make for a fine Cleaner.
"No, you are not. So tell Corvus I'm keeping him accountable, too. And while you are at it, tell him he better offer Zanka all we could not."
Enjin harrumphs, passing his empty glass to the bartender. "Man, your brother better not be as demanding as you. That would be a nightmare."
Kyoka smiles to Enjin, amused by his words. Enjin might act like he's opposing it, but he had not turned down Kyoka directly. Kyoka is aware, too, that Enjin is no blind man. He had probably seen the same Kyoka had. And if that was the case, she knew Zanka would fit right in.
She might not agree with the path Zanka had taken, but, so long as he did not lag behind, so long as he remembered to keep polishing his skills, to keep his flame bright, Kyoka thinks she could make amends with Zanka's decision. If Zanka proved his, and his staff's worth within the Cleaners, Kyoka could forgive him for reaching for things beyond his grasp, for leaving them behind.