Work Text:
December 24, 11 pm.
An empty lecture hall on the fifth floor.
Zanka came here because it was quiet, smelled of chalk and old books, and no one bothered him. An open notebook lay on the desk in front of him, but his gaze rested on the frost-covered black window. Beyond it, rare strings of lights flickered, a holiday passing him by. Somewhere out there, Rudo and Riyo were having fun. He took a stale sweet bun out of his backpack.
The door creaked open. Jabber froze in the doorway. Not in his usual style — with a playful smile and a wild spark in his eyes. He was alone. His face was tired, almost hollowed out. In his hands — two cans of coffee from the vending machine.
Seeing him, he didn’t smirk, didn’t toss out a jab. He just stood there for a second.
— Same damn thing, — he said quietly, more to himself, and came in, pulling the door shut.
Zanka looked up at him with irritation, squeezing the bun.
— The room is occupied. Go your own way.
Zanka looked back at the open pages. Integrals and formulas now seemed not like a logical system, but just a set of meaningless squiggles. The shelter hadn’t worked.
Jabber silently set one can of coffee on the desk next to him. Not closer. Just within reach. He didn’t sit down, but leaned against the wall, sipping from his own. He looked at the same window.
— You run away from all this too? — he asked dully, unable to bear the silence.
— From what? — he didn’t turn around.
— From the fun. From the smiles. From the noise.
Jabber snorted. The sound was dry, without malice.
— Yeah. Got old. Like some kind of set decoration.
He fell silent, watching his breath leave fleeting traces on the glass.
— And you? — he finally looked at Zanka. — Didn’t go home?
Zanka shrugged.
— Home… is also a decoration. Just a different one. At least it’s quiet here.
He broke off a piece of the bun, but didn’t eat it, just rolled it between his fingers. Jabber took a sip of coffee, grimaced at the bitterness.
— Cthoni called me, — he said suddenly. — Asked if I’d already landed in the police station or the hospital, since I dropped off the radar. Predictable, right? And I was just standing in an empty corridor, staring at the wall, until I heard you slam the door here.
He said it evenly, without self-pity. Like stating a fact.
— So ya followed the sound? — Zanka asked, and for the first time there were no spikes in his voice.
— Something like that.
He pushed off the wall, went to the window and ran a finger through the frost, leaving a clear stripe. A streetlamp glowed dully outside.
— Shitty holiday. Everyone’s supposed to be happy on schedule. Anyone who doesn’t fit in is a loser.
— Yeah, — Zanka simply agreed.
He reached for the can of coffee. Despite the coffee not being very good, and not even from a proper machine, he took a sip. The liquid was bitter and sweet at the same time, smelled of cheap milk and metal.
— Thanks. For the coffee.
— No problem, — Jabber sat down on the neighboring desk, back to the window, facing him. — Don’t offer me your bun, I saw where you pulled it from. From the depths of your backpack. That’s an ancient fossil.
To his own surprise, he snorted.
— I wasn’t plannin’ to. So what do we do, two losers in an empty lecture hall on the very night before Christmas?
Jabber thought for a moment. Then he dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out a crumpled little bag.
— What, you want to snort your whole supply right here?
— Wow, how could you think it’s drugs, — Jabber brought the bag closer to Zanka, — these are just rooster-shaped lollipops. I’m offended that you trust me so little.
Zanka looked at the multicolored lollipops in the transparent bag, at his calm, tired face. All of it made him tense to the limit, and where was the guarantee that they really were just lollipops?
— Fine. They’re not poisoned, at least? — Zanka asked automatically, staring at the candies.
— Relax, — Jabber stuck a yellow one in his mouth and turned back to the window again. — If I wanted to poison you, I’d have mixed something into that dead bread you’re eating. More effective.
He shook out two lollipops — a red one and a yellow one. Put them on Zanka’s notebook, next to the can. And finally sat down beside him.
— Consider it a Christmas present.
And strangely enough, that jab, stripped of malice, sounded almost homely.
Zanka slowly unwrapped the lollipop and put it in his mouth. The cloying sweetness hit his head.
— Shitty holiday, — he suddenly said into the space, looking at the black window where they were both reflected: two silhouettes in an empty, lit lecture hall.
— Yeah, — Jabber simply agreed, resting his forehead against the cold glass. — Shitty. But still, are you planning to sit here with your notes all through Christmas? You can't possibly be that much of a shithead.
— And what do you suggest, oh great party-king? If you're so keen on fun, ya should've stayed at the party, - Zanka waved a hand towards the corridor, - besides, it's never too late to go back.
Jabber shook his head and was suddenly right in front of Zanka's face. With those eyes like the cat from "Shrek."
— Well, first of all, I didn't get a present from you...
— A kick out the door will do?
— And plus, I know a great bakery that's still open and where you can get fresh stuff. A walk with me I can count as your present.
Zanka was thinking of a way to decline such a generous offer. But honestly, he was sick of that stupid notebook and the silence himself. Maybe going out with Jabber was a bad idea, but a little more of this and he'd go nuts.
— Fine, I'm in. But none of your weirdness.
— I swear on my scout's honor.
— Ya never were one, ugh...
Jabber suddenly grabbed his hand and cheerfully headed for the exit, not giving Zanka time to gather his things. Nijiku sighed loudly, but what could he do? He'd just have to text Riyo to pick up his things. Hoping he wouldn't regret choosing Wonger over studying.