Chapter Text
Ever since Zanka came to understand his place in the world, he’s had to fight tooth and nail to avoid drowning in it. The realization first struck him during Hell Guard training. The pedestal he’d been placed on, the one he’d blindly stepped onto, had been revealed as a sham. His hard work paled in comparison to that of Hyo’s natural talent. He had never been naturally gifted. It was a foundation of sand that he’d built his world on.
The same peers who had once looked up to him with awe, jealousy, and respect looked upon him differently now. Zanka Nijiku, the once all-powerful student, had been easily defeated by their new classmate. They looked at him as an equal now, someone just as much beneath Hyo as the rest of them. His classmate’s attention turned to the new prodigy. They mimicked her, tried to learn from her, spoke only of her.
Then, their look turned to one of disgust. Zanka, once the greatest in the class, had foolishly chosen the most useless weapon available. In fact, calling it a weapon was an overstatement. Zanka faced his most humiliating defeat. Face first in the dirt, Hyo’s sword held to his neck. His stick did nothing to aid his struggle.
In the aftermath, it was revealed that Zanka hadn’t even chosen a weapon; he’d chosen a mistake. An accident. Not a special secret weapon, not a strategic 4D-chess battle instrument. A normal, boring, average stick. Just like him.
But he couldn’t let it go. The thought made him sick. Zanka had been revealed as a fraud, which meant he could relate to this stick. The stick had seen him for what he was, and was still here by his side regardless. He had nothing but this damn stick.
Zanka dreaded the inevitable that evening. The shameful walk to his home, spiraling about having to tell his family what he’d done and how he had shamed them. He didn’t go home. Instead, he wandered aimlessly in the city.
Just as the sun was going down, Zanka found a nice, cold hole to crawl into. An empty well. His stomach already cramped from hunger. Good. The hunger would teach him, it would remind him of what happened when he got too full of himself, when he fucked up. Maybe finally he’d learn. Probably not.
Zanka had no plans to leave the well.
…
By day two, Zanka's energy was so low he could hardly move. Not that he had anywhere to move to. He hadn’t slept at all, his body freezing. He was dehydrated and so, so hungry. He wanted his body to just shut down and die already. But it was taking so long.
Had his family tried looking for him yet? Would they find him before he died?
…Did they care that he’d suddenly disappeared?
They’d have likely heard about what happened in class. His sensei would have reported to them. If not immediately, then in the days following, as he failed to show up to his classes. Maybe they preferred it this way. If he quietly disappeared. Then at least he’d spare his siblings and parents from having to do damage control for him. For explaining why their failure of a son thought a stick was a valid fighting weapon. Instead, they’d hold a ceremony for his death, pretending that Zanka had been respectable to the end.
Or, maybe they’d try to forget they had a second son altogether. Continue to ignore his disappearance. Never find him.
At some point during his stay in the well, Zanka had tried to speed up his demise. The sharp edges of the stone walls served as a means to ground himself, to calm his racing mind. It was a habit he’d tried to avoid, only harming himself after major screw ups. A punishment and reminder to do better. This time, he figured bleeding out would quicken the rate at which he died.
It didn’t.
Now his uniform was not only covered in mud and dirt, but also in blood. Perfect, just perfect. The blood of a failed Nijiku.
…
A man spoke to him. At this point, Zanka was so delirious he couldn’t tell if he’d imagined the interaction. But the man’s words lit something in him. They reignited Zanka’s own inner flame. He no longer wanted to wait out his death, but find purpose to keep living, to keep fighting. To prove that his failures could make him stronger.
Zanka painstakingly climbed the walls. His body screamed at him, his vision blurred. The rock’s dampness made it hard not to slip back down. He used the stick to assist his climb. It was sturdy and well-structured to support his weight. Zanka felt beads of sweat on his brow and hoped desperately that the strangers weren't already gone. He’d already given up on the Hell Guard. He knew now that he never belonged with them. But this man? Something drew Zanka towards him, making him want to follow wherever he was going.
He sat pressed against the rocks, half his weight on the staff below him. A buzz radiated from it. Had that always been there? Zanka felt a wave of energy and power wash over him. The ordinary became unordinary; it grew, strengthened. Zanka found himself able to reach the top.
…
“Hey, wait!”
Enjin and Riyo turned around and saw a boy running after them. His eyes glowed blue and he carried a metal staff.
“Is that…?”
“Hell yeah! Knew ya could do it, kid.”
Zanka reached the two travelers, nearly stumbling to the ground. He was out of breath and leaned over his staff to stabilize himself.
“You look like shit,” Riyo commented.
“Lemme come with you,” he said.
…
The Cleaners. He’d heard of them before. Usually, his sister would rant about the organization of givers, demeaning them. Just like she did to him. It seemed to be a perfectly cruel fate. But one he couldn’t pass up even if he wanted to.
“Damn kid, didn’t realize people could live in houses this big.”
“My family holds a lot of power in this region.”
“I’m sure they’ll be real glad to hear you’re abandoning that to join the Cleaners, hmm?”
Zanka didn’t respond, resolute eyes fixated on the main gates. “Wait out here, I won’t be long.”
Though he was willing to abandon the privileged life of a Nijiku, he wasn’t willing to do so without some sort of closure. At the very least, letting his family know he was alive while grabbing his belongings.
Zanka entered the home and was met with an eerie silence. It seemed like nobody was home. He walked swiftly to his room, filling his bag with his essentials. His body ached and he desperately needed a bath, but he would figure that out once he was out of here.
“Zanka,” Goka said, appearing behind him. Zanka nearly jumped out of his skin. “Kyouka is waiting for you in the common room.”
Though Zanka was learning to disobey his family in the grand scheme of things, he was still well-trained and knew better than to pick a fight he couldn’t win. Especially with his sister.
“Zanka,” she started. “What is the meaning of this?”
Where to begin? He thought. He’d tried to kill himself in a well after humiliating himself in front of his peers. He’d only left said well to abandon his family and join an enemy group.
“You’ve missed three days of class. We Nijiku can't come and go as we please. We must set an example for the rest of our classmates, and prove that we are superior to them.” She stood and walked towards him. Zanka remained kneeling on the ground, head down. “I covered for you this time. Now explain yourself or I'll report to father.”
Zanka kept his eyes fixated on the wooden floorboards. He knew that whatever he said would be taken poorly. His sister was not the understanding type.
Kyouka wasn’t very pleased at her brother’s silence, growing more and more agitated. “And what is the meaning of this?” She looked at her youngest brother’s packed bag and… stick?
“I had thought the rumours were false, but it seems you really are a fool. What kind of weapon is this, Zanka? What did you hope to achieve by choosing it?”
Zanka felt the pit in his stomach grow. There was no reason for cowardice now. “I’m joining the Cleaners.”
…
Zanka was never one to cry, at least not in front of others. He’d learned long ago what sort of reaction that would result in. The mental anguish was always better than the physical. He’d gotten good at holding in his emotions, at preventing himself from showing weakness.
But as he stumbled out of his home, staff in hand, disowned by his own blood, it was growing difficult to hold everything in. His sister could be merciless and cruel. It was something he’d once looked up to, even being on the receiving end of her wrath. It made her strong, he’d thought.
His body had been beaten and bruised.
Without thinking, he tried to defend himself using his vital instrument. In doing so, he accidentally revealed the real reason he was leaving the Hell Guard.
“You’re a giver?!” The look of anger on her face was one Zanka had never seen before. He’d seen her plenty mad, plenty violent, but this expression was a new one. It was in part anger, disgust, and something else he couldn’t quite name. Regardless, it made him shake, and it made her hit harder than Zanka ever thought possible. She’d been holding back this entire time, and he still never got close to her level. His whole life had been one big delusion up to now.
Zanka gripped his staff in one hand, his other hanging down uselessly at his side. His staff was still metal. He wasn’t sure how to turn it back, or if he really wanted to. He stumbled through the yard and reached the gate, using his weight to open it. Thankfully, the pain in his body distracted him from processing what had just happened. What his sister had said to him. The fact that he’d been disowned.
He dreaded seeing Enjin and Riyo on the street. He felt something drip down from his nose. Blood, great. His vision tunneled as his heart rate picked up, deafening his ears to the outside world. Suddenly, the world became very dizzying.
“Whoa, there.” Enjin’s voice came through. He felt hands on his shoulders and realized he’d been falling forward. Suddenly aware, he jerked back from the support, instinctively raising his staff in defence.
Enjin had a blank look on his face, but raised his hands up in some sort of mock surrender. “Easy, just us.” Enjin looked Zanka up and down before frowning. “Family reunion didn’t go too well, I take it.”
Zanka huffed a humourless laugh as he lowered his staff. “They’d barely even noticed my absence. My sister was upset that I wasn’t at school. That’s all.” He spoke in a hollow voice, his gaze unfocused. This confrontation had confirmed one thing for certain. His siblings didn't give a single shit about him. To them, he was completely worthless, easily disposable. Like trash. Like his damn stick.
Riyo looked like she wanted to say something, but instead looked to Enjin. Their eyes had a silent conversation.
Enjin spoke, “Alright, we can get you patched back up at Cleaners HQ. Let’s head out.” The situation turned far more grim than he’d signed up for.
Neither of the Cleaners mentioned Zanka’s still glowing eyes, even as the car ride was well underway.
…
Zanka struggled to acclimate to the Cleaners. First, he came from a high-society family, at least by the surface's standards. Now, he found himself surrounded by criminals and degenerates. The exact kind of people he’d have been fighting to arrest as a Hell Guard. There was something cathartic in that fact. He was deciding his own fate, free from his family's influence. But he also felt alienated from his new comrades. Where the others felt rough and jagged, Zanka had been sanded down and polished. He lacked something the others had, something that made them feel so much more human.
When he joined the others for meals, it felt more like Zanka was studying how to act, rather than getting to know the people he’d be fighting alongside. They tried to speak to him, but he didn’t know what to say in return.
Which leads to the second reason he struggled. Zanka was a private person by nature. He didn’t ask much of others, and in turn, didn’t give many answers about himself. He was trained from a young age not to overshare, especially anything that could be exploited later on. To be safe, Zanka opted to never share. But with so many questions being thrown his way, it felt like an interrogation, no matter how open the others were with him.
It didn’t take long for Zanka to begin skipping communal mealtimes. He was usually so caught up in his own overthinking that he’d lose his appetite, anyway. Instead, Zanka would wait until the dead of night to enter the kitchen, eating whatever leftovers remained. It felt safer. He felt less exposed.
Unfortunately, his nighttime peace would be short-lived.
“Thought I’d find you here,” Zanka barely managed to suppress a flinch. Stupid, he’d let himself get comfortable, let his guard down. In his silence, the man, Gris, continued. “Mealtimes can be quite overwhelming, you know? Loud. I always preferred the quieter hours, so I understand why you’d be here so late.”
Zanka simply hummed in acknowledgement.
“Say, you wouldn’t mind if I joined you tonight? Didn’t have the opportunity to grab a bite earlier.”
“I can’t stop ya from bein' here.”
“True, but if you’d prefer some time alone, I could always come back later. Wouldn’t want to intrude.”
Typically, Zanka would take offence to being spoken to like this. It would feel belittling or demeaning. But something about how the man spoke made it seem genuine.
“No, that’s alright. Ya aren’t intruding.” Zanka felt a warm feeling as the man smiled and sat down at the table across from him. It felt… comforting, even as neither of them spoke a word. He felt accepted somehow.
And just like that, a nightly routine was formed. Zanka would eat his meals late at night, joined by Gris, who would either be eating a late dinner or reading with a cup of tea in hand. There was no pressure to speak or to share. Just the company of another person who respected his boundaries without having to ask what they were.
…
The second person Zanka found comfort in was, surprisingly, Riyo. Their first few encounters were facilitated through Enjin, and it didn’t seem like they had all that much in common. At least at first. Riyo clearly came from a more… difficult background and family life, if the few bits Zanka had picked up on were anything to go by. Nothing like the life of privilege he'd just willingly given up.
What they did have in common was their work ethic. Riyo pushed herself, even when she wanted you to think otherwise. She’d clearly been well trained, and she kept up a consistent training regimen. Her ability to use her jinji with her legs was astounding. Something Zanka could barely wrap his head around.
Which begged the question: how would Zanka better utilize his own jinki? His lovely Assistaff only had one form. Everybody else seemed able to upgrade theirs at will to something larger and more powerful.
The only conclusion Zanka could come to… he was still too weak. So he trained. Every night. He added it to his daily schedule. First, following his nightly routine with Gris. But that wasn’t good enough. He shouldn’t allow himself luxuries while still being this far behind the rest of the Cleaners. Just because he started as a Cleaner after them doesn’t mean he shouldn't be held to the same standards. Hyo had just joined their class and immediately defeated everybody. First day.
So, for the next few days, by the time Zanka had finished training, Gris had already left the common room. Good, he thought. No distractions.
Zanka began skipping more meals. Nothing could be rewarded to him until he had surpassed his abilities from the previous day. There was no room for stagnation when he was already this far behind.
…
He was on pushup number 70, only 30 more to go. His arms shook violently. The night prior, he had only reached 90. Until he could get 100 a day or more, it wasn’t good enough.
Regardless, at 75, his body collapsed on him.
“Have you had a single night off since getting here?”
Great. Perfect. Just his luck. “Riyo.”
“I’d find that glare more intimidating if you weren’t face down on the floor. Can you even get up?”
“'Course.. I can…” He struggled with shaking limbs to push himself to a sitting position. His body swayed.
“...You sure got me,” she smiled. “Seriously, though, are you trying to injure yourself before your first official mission?” Her voice was melodic, playful. Mocking.
Zanka didn’t dignify that with a response. She wouldn’t get it, being naturally gifted. It just comes so easily to these people. Zanka had to put in far more effort than them just to still fall behind.
“I don’t think Enjin would be too happy seeing his student collapse because he doesn’t know how to take care of himself.”
“Sha’ddup… Don’t tell him… nothin’...”
“Mhm, right, and you’ll stop me?” She stood from her crouched position, hands on her hips.
He glared.
“Alright, fine. I won’t tell Enjin you’ve been staying up every night training until dawn, if you agree to take one rest day–-no, two whole rest days.”
“What?! Are ya crazy?”
“Far from it, if we’re comparing. You do know muscles need time to repair themselves if you actually want to get stronger? Which means rest.”
“I don’t have time for any of that…”
“Sorry, Zanks, it just doesn’t work like that.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Why don’t we go get you something to eat, then you can get some rest?” She held out her hand to help pull him up. He reluctantly took it, blowing his bangs from his face.
They walked in silence to the cafeteria. Typically, Zanka would have showered and changed out of his tank top before grabbing food. But it was unlikely anybody else would be up at this hour. So it should be fine. Still, he didn’t like feeling so… exposed.
His hopes were crushed as they saw a dim light emitting from the dining room. Gris, despite the ungodly hour, was still up reading. “Ah, Zanka… Riyo. I was wondering when you might stop by. Was worrying you’d started skipping dinner altogether.”
“Just… training.”
“Found this idiot face down on the training mat. Seems starving himself all day doesn’t do well for his training regime.”
“Riyo–!”
“Oh, right. Don’t tell Enjin.” She winked at Gris as Zanka glared daggers. These people. He swayed a bit in place before bringing his hand to his eyes and groaning. He was way too fucking exhausted for this shit. Riyo slipped her arm around his back and guided him to the table. “Now, what’re you feeling?”
“‘S fine, not even all that… hungry…”
“Uh huh, sure.” She headed to the kitchen area. Zanka’s eyes suddenly very heavy. The room was too bright. He brought his head down to the table, cradled in his crossed arms.
By the time Riyo came back with food, Zanka had already passed out. “Damn, thought he’d last a bit longer.” She turned to Gris, “Don’t know how you read books in here. It’s way too dark to see anything.” He huffed a laugh in return, closing his book and looking at the boy in front of him.
Riyo switched on the main lights and went to place the plate in front of Zanka, pausing at Gris’ contemplative look. “What-?” She followed the supporter's eyes to Zanka’s sleeping form, eyes widening in realization. Their newest comrade’s arms were decorated in scars, most of them pale and faded, but others that looked…
Riyo swallowed. Though she had technically met Zanka on the brink of a self-inflicted death, she never suspected that…
“We should let him rest,” Gris spoke, not acknowledging what was in front of them. “Looks like he’s hardly been sleeping at all.”
“He still hasn’t eaten anything…”
“We’ll make sure he eats in the morning. I fear if we wake him now, he might not sleep at all.” Riyo reluctantly nodded her head. Gris walked over to Zanka, draping his blanket over the boy’s shoulders before lifting him.
Zanka’s room was completely empty of personal belongings, save for his small bag. Riyo gently placed Assistaff next to his bed. “We should really talk to Enjin,” Gris said while gently laying Zanka down.
“Mmm, no can do. Made a promise."
“Well, I didn’t .”
…
After two restless days off from training, Zanka was finally able to resume his training routine. When he arrived at the gym, Riyo was there waiting. “Finally, I thought you’d decided to take a third day off.”
“As if. What’re ya doing here anyways?”
“Can’t a girl train with her teammate? We will be on our first mission together soon. We should be familiar with each other’s fighting styles.”
“Makes sense, I s’pose… What’re ya proposing?”
She smiled, “We spar.”
…
Finally, Zanka was given a job. There was a trash beast sighting not too far from HQ. It was a mission that a single cleaner could handle, but for his first, they sent the whole team.
“Remember, Zanka, this is your first mission. No theatrics or heroics, ‘kay? And stick close to the team.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And would you please knock it off with the formalities? I keep telling ya, we don’t pull rank here. Just call me my name.”
“Yes, Enjin…”
“Good, good. Now, we’re almost there. Riyo, do you have its location pinned?”
“You got it, boss.” She saluted.
Isn't a boss a ranking? Was Riyo purposefully disrespecting her commanding officer? Zanka knew better than to ask.
Enjin hardly reacted at all to her words, only smiling. These people are very strange.
…
Zanka’s heart skipped a beat as five more beasts suddenly erupted in the surrounding area. They’d only just defeated the one that had been reported. The earthquake-like rumble of the ground afterwards caught them all completely off guard. His fears had to be shoved aside if he wanted to get out of this alive. The three Cleaners charged back into battle.
Himself and Riyo, the two rookies, teamed up against one. Even she seemed outmatched by these beasts.
"Damn, why are they so large. No fun," she complained, half joking. Zanka couldn't speak and fight at the same time. he was too focused on not dying to reply.
As they struggled against the 6-legged monster, Enjin was having a field day. His laughs could be heard over the sounds of scraping metal and falling garbage. The man lived without fear.
Zanka had always been impressed by Enjin since the first time they met. He always kept a level head, even when he was in battle. Watching him work with Umbreaker was… it was a sight to see. The man knew how to put on a show. And maybe that’s why, in the heat of battle, Zanka had a momentary lapse in concentration. It wasn’t much, just a couple of seconds. But it was enough to miss one of the beast’s limbs as it swung at him from behind. It was enough to find himself crash-landing far away from his team, surrounded by the other three trash beasts. He was out of sight from his team now, a large pile of trash separating them.
If he screamed, would they hear him?
Likely not with all the commotion.
He was cornered. There was no strategy that would get him out of this one. He’d have to rely on strength and instinct alone. Zanka's heart pounded in his ears. He tightened his grip on Assistaff and launched himself at the beast. No room for weakness. The end of his jinki pierced its chest, and he drove it further. Assistaff buzzed with energy as its light intensified. She grew. The spikes shot through the beast’s body, killing it instantly.
He withdrew his staff, not giving himself the opportunity to catch his breath before turning to the next one and repeating the motions. It became monotonous, but filled Zanka with adrenaline like he’d never felt. Before he knew it, all three beasts had been taken out.
The ringing in his ears slowly subsided. In its stead was the low ambiance of the landfill. That, and… a desperate call from his choker. One that had apparently been going off for some time.
“-anka!? Where the hell are you, answer me!" It was Enjin.
He pressed down on it. “Hello?”
“Don’t ‘hello’ me! We’ve been trying to get a hold of you for-- Where are you right now?!”
Zanka's heart dropped. Great, day one in the field, and he’d already fucked up.
“Over the hill to the left. Sorry, I… got a bit stuck.”
He heard a sigh on the other end. “Standby. We’re heading to your location.”
It didn't take long before their vehicle appeared on the hill. Zanka froze in wait, crouched in a squat.
Technically, he didn’t know what being reprimanded by the Cleaners entailed. Back home, his family made it perfectly clear what happened when you stepped out of line. It was the last interaction he’d had with them, after all.
If only he could listen better. He’d been told not to go off on his own, and he’d failed that one simple order. Sure, he hadn’t intentionally done so, but if he'd been paying more attention... He also didn’t prioritize coming back right away. He thought… maybe if he handled these beasts, he'd somehow prove himself.
There it was again, that same nagging, childish urge deep within. To be recognized. To be praised. Stupid piece of shit.
Team Akuta exited the vehicle, ready for battle. Zanka stood. “Look, I-”
“Whoa, Zanka, did you take these guys out all by yourself?” Riyo asked, putting down her vital instrument with an impressed smile.
Enjin looked out and saw the three beasts dismembered on the ground. He whistled and crossed his arms as his eyes turned to normal. “Damn, kid. ‘Average’ my ass. Can’t imagine what the rest of the Hell Guard looks like if you flunked out.”
They were trying to soften the blow. But Zanka was no coward. He could handle it. He stood at attention.
“Look, s- Enjin… I, uhm. I apologize for going against orders. I got separated and couldn’t get back, but that’s no excuse for insubordination. So I understand if you…”
“Relax, kid. You’ll give yourself an aneurysm.” Enjin shielded his unease with a dismissive hand wave. “We stick together to ensure the team’s safety. If you got separated, that’s not your fault. Just try to be more mindful next time is all. And answer your choker.”
“We’re just glad you’re okay. Though… it looks like you did just fine on your own.” Gris added with a proud smile.
Zanka felt completely helpless. His heart raced and blush dusted his cheeks. Thank goodness for the gas mask. He had never felt so… praised. The attention made him feel lightheaded.
“He’s more than okay! You seriously took them all on by yourself?! You’re more badass than I thought, Zanka,” Riyo said with a mischievous smirk, turning to the others. “Sounds like this calls for a celebration back at HQ! Zanka’s first successful mission!”
“Any excuse to drink, hey?” Enjin poked. Riyo only shrugged her shoulders innocently.
…
“And you let him fight all three on his own?”
“Well, I didn’t have much of a choice, Semiu. The kid disappeared on us.”
“Oh. So you lost your newest teammate, then let him take on the trash beasts. Even better.”
Enjin groaned as he rubbed his hand down his face. “Look, I get it, okay? I’ll keep a closer eye on him next time. But you have to admit, Zanka's got some excellent instincts. Hell, he’ll likely surpass me based on how quickly he’s developing his vital instrument.”
“I don’t deny his potential. In fact, I largely agree with you...” She paused. “But don’t let his strength fool you; the boy needs proper guidance.”
“I’m not his babysitter. He handled himself just fine.”
“I'm not asking you to be his babysitter. But he has something to prove, and will stop at nothing to prove it. He’ll get himself burned if left unchecked. Keep an eye on him and don’t let that happen.”
There was something more beneath the surface. It wasn't like Semiu to go so hard on him like this. As Cleaners, they were constantly in harms way. There was no need to restate the risks involved.
“Hold on… You saw somethin’, didn’t you?” Enjin leaned in while lighting his cigarette.
Her eyes flicked away for a moment. “Even if I did, I’m not at liberty to disclose. It’s not my fault you keep bringing in troubled teens, Enjin. Now you’re responsible for their well-being. Deal with it.”
…
Zanka was continually improving with each job, and each day spent training. He’d already accessed a higher ability of his jinki on his first mission. Things were starting to look up. At least once a week, the team would be sent out for a new job. He quickly found his place in the team. He felt like he was truly contributing to something.
They fell into a good working habit. Zanka would stay up late to train with Riyo, then be dragged to the common room where he'd spend part of the evening in comfortable silence with her and Gris. He'd then be forced to get a reasonable amount of sleep.
Zanka got up at dawn to train alone, which Riyo didn’t need to know about but likely already did. The fact that it wasn’t brought up was a win in his books. He needed his time alone. He'd end his morning training with meditation.
It was nice. He kept himself distracted, sharp. There was no use wasting time when he could be preparing for battle. He didn't want to be caught off guard again.
…
“We have a special job,” Corvus stated.
“Okay… Did’ya have to call us in now, boss? We just got back from one.” Enjin complained, feigning exhaustion.
“It’s the Hell Guard.” Zanka’s eyes snapped up. “They’d like to work with us on a mission. No, more like, they need our help, and requested our finest cleaners to do the job.”
Enjin’s hand tightened on Umbreaker. “And you’re telling us because…?”
“Team Akuta is our best.” Semiu stepped in. “And nobody else is here.“
“Well, tell the Hell Guard they can all go to hell. What, are they suddenly too weak to handle things themselves? Pretty bold of them to demand givers help ‘em out.”
Semiu sighed. “Enjin, I understand your frustration with the situation, but the truth is, we really don’t have any other options. There have been countless trash beasts located outside of the Kamuatari District in the last few days, and the Hell Guard suspects, based on their movement patterns, that they’ll wreak havoc on the city in a matter of days. Countless innocents will die. We both know only givers can deal with them.”
Enjin gritted his teeth. He already had a headache. “And there’s really nobody else you can send?”
“If there was, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Nobody else is back at HQ, and likely won’t be for some time. We’d need you to leave now.”
Enjin looked to his team, trying not to linger too long on Zanka. They were all exhausted, but otherwise in good condition. There was no real reason to deny this job. “Fine.”
…
The drive was long and quiet. Enjin let Gris take the wheel so that his team could get some shut-eye between assignments. At least, that’s the reason he told them. Truth is, his mind was too distracted to focus on the road. He couldn’t stop thinking about Zanka’s last interaction with the Hell Guard. With his family. The kid had been real quiet since the mission was given to them.
This was their second mission with the newest supporter, Tomme. It was still technically their first day working together. “Zanka, this is where your family’s from, right?” she asked innocently.
Zanka chewed his inner cheek. “Ya,” he answered shortly, clearly wanting to drop the subject. While nobody knew exactly what Zanka’s relationship with his family was like, the rest of the team knew, at the very least, not to ask.
Unfortunately, Tomme couldn’t read his mind, nor pick up on the growing tension in the vehicle.
Zanka rubbed his arm, a habit he’d picked up when he felt trapped and needed to ground himself. It was subtle, something the others likely wouldn’t notice. Hopefully.
“Oh, that’s cool. Nijiku… that’s your family name, right? I think I remember hearing they’re influential with the Hell Guard. Does that mean you’ll get to see your family while we’re here? That would be a-”
“Will ya just drop it already? It’s none of yer damn business.”
That shut her up.
The silence that followed left plenty of room for Zanka to stew in guilt and shame. He didn’t mean to sound so… angry in his outburst. But she shouldn’t be asking things that don’t pertain to her. It is none of her business.
Enjin adjusted the rear view mirror to make eye contact. “Zanka, play nice.” It was a warning.
“No, uhm, it’s okay… I guess I shouldn’t ask about people’s personal lives like that.” Tomme’s voice wavered as she held her hands in her lap.
If Zanka were in his right mind, he’d tell her it’s okay, or apologize. Instead, he kept his eyes out the window and crossed his arms tighter.
…
The mission was stupidly easy. There were a number of mid-sized trash beasts near the district , but they didn’t appear very interested in the populated area. It made taking them out that much easier.
Ideally, they’d have been in and out without a problem. But unfortunately, Kyouka was at the head of this assignment. And as Zanka’s luck would go, she cornered him in the couple of minutes he was alone.
“Zanka.”
“Kyouka.”
“I see you’re still carrying that little stick around with you.”
“Her name is Lovely Assistaff. She’s not just a stick.”
Saying that seemed to have struck a nerve. Kyouka grabbed him by the front of his shirt, looking down on him. Zanka’s heart sank. Fear. He felt like he was back home again, surrounded by his family, waiting to be punished. He was.
“Is this really what you threw your life away for? Gave up your status as a Nijiku to run around with filth.” She tossed him back, and Zanka stumbled before collapsing to his knees. Damn legs aren't working right. His body began to tremor. He tried to suppress it. It didn't work.
“I thought that at the very least, you’d get stronger, but I see now I was far too optimistic. You are weaker than ever, Zanka.” She looked disgusted with him, placing her boot on his chest and shoving him down to the ground. “Look at you. Not even strong enough to fight back,” she snarled as Zanka remained frozen in fear. Trapped.
Something about this whole interaction… infuriated her. She kicked him hard in the chest, expecting him to do anything but cower beneath her. He still didn’t fight back. He didn’t move. “Get up,” she kicked again, harder. “Were all those years in Hell Guard training for nothing?” She almost sounded confused, perhaps apprehensive. But it was quickly replaced by blind rage. She kicked him in the head. “You threw it all out in a matter of months?" Again. “For this?” Again. “Where is your fire, Zanka?!”
Zanka felt the anger boil within him. Felt his fingers twitch, wanting to reach out to Assistaff. But he held his hand back. He was filled with indescribable rage, but it was not directed at his sister. Her words and actions only confirmed what he already knew and hated himself for. It was just a reminder. That he’d never truly gotten stronger. That he was still weak.
His sister’s rage only increased as Zanka forced his body to stay down, unmoving. She wanted him to fight. Why? It was pointless. She should just get it done with.
He felt liquid stream down his face. His eyes were swollen. The pain numbed him.
Her steel-toed boot slammed down on his torso. Zanka cried out as she kicked him again and again until... a crack filled the air. His senses shot with the searing pain of his ribs breaking. His flesh had been torn. His skin was badly bruised. His heart pounded in his ears. The shock of pain was unbearable. Kyouka’s yelling was indecipherable. Zanka felt like he was sinking underwater. He was drowning.
Zanka hardly noticed when the kicking stopped or when a chorus of new voices joined his sister's yelling. It didn’t matter. His vision was blurry. It hurt to think. It hurt to breathe. Air came in painful, shallow rasps. He coughed violently, and red dripped onto the ground. His head was pounding, and tears formed in his eyes. He refused to let them fall. He refused to give her the satisfaction. It was the one piece of dignity he had left.
A hand was on his shoulder. Someone was calling his name.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!”
He winced as someone touched his head. It may have been hit one too many times.
“You could’ve killed him!” Somebody cried.
Zanka’s eyes briefly came into focus. His sister was in his line of sight, yards away. Which meant she wasn’t over top of him anymore. That’s good, he supposed.
Gris held Enjin back as he and Riyo yelled at Kyouka. “If he were a real Nijuku, he wouldn’t have been so easily bested. He’d have fought back instead of letting it happen,” Kyouka yelled back. There was venom in her voice. It made his body ache more.
“You bitch.” Riyo shouted from beside him. Zanka flinched at the sudden noise, not realizing how close they were to him. Sound was flickering in and out, echoing throughout his skull. “Sorry…” she said quietly.
“There’s a reason my brother was disinherited. Now you see it for yourselves.” She gestured at Zanka’s pitiful form as evidence. A near fetal position in the dirt.
“Your… brother?!” Tomme cried in disbelief, looking down at him. The pity in her expression was too much. Zanka forced his mind to escape from the present as he tightly closed his eyes. How horrible that his team had to be here for this. At least last time, he’d been able to try and compose himself first.
Zanka tried to take a deep breath but wasn’t getting enough air. It felt like his chest was being crushed. Hadn't it been? His mind lost track of where he was, focused only on the pain. Each breath threatened a violent coughing fit that he fought to suppress, lest he cough up a lung. But it was too shallow. His eyes closed tighter. Focus. Just breathe, you piece of shit. Despite his efforts, static soon enveloped his mind.
…
A hand lightly brushed his ribs, and he couldn’t stifle the desperate gasp that forced its way out. He tried to open his eyes, but the world was too bright and spinning too quickly. He felt nauseous. He was no longer curled on his side, instead laid flat on his back. His sister was gone. His team surrounded him. How humiliating.
“...s’rib’s broken, internal bleeding… careful with him…” Zanka was really struggling to keep up, but it didn’t sound like they were speaking directly to him. Still, he wasn’t a fan of this situation. He needed to pull himself together.
No longer feeling hands on him, Zanka seized the opportunity to lift himself up to his elbows. He only made it a couple of centimeters off the ground before his ribs started screaming at him to lie back down. Searing pain lit up his body. A gasp was forced through his burning throat, eyes opening wide. It sounded too close to a sob. He refused to cry.
“Whoa there, Zanka!” Two pairs of hands gently pushed his shoulders back down to the ground and held him down.
“Are you back with us?” Tomme asked gently.
Zanka’s unfocused eyes moved across the group. Everyone except Enjin was there. “W’s.. En..’n…” he choked out. Great, he was slurring his damn words.
The three exchanged an apprehensive look. If Zanka’s head wasn’t pounding so damn badly, he’d care to guess what they were thinking. He could hardly even remember where he was.
“Enjin’s grabbing the car. Try not to move until then.” Gris spoke slowly. Too slowly. Zanka frowned.
He only hummed in response, letting his head lull back to the side. It felt like hours had passed, but it must’ve been only a couple of minutes before the sound of a recklessly driven vehicle sped towards them.
The door shot open. “He still breathing?” Enjin asked as he paced towards them. It sounded like an attempt at being lighthearted. Everyone but Zanka could hear the panic in his voice.
“Barely,” Gris replied grimly.
“It’s impossible to treat him here,” Tomme added. “I think we should put him out for the trip back. He’s in a lot of pain right now.”
“You mean sedate him?”
“I don’t think we have any choice. He needs medical attention immediately. Proper healing, I mean. I don’t think we can move him like this, though.” She looked over at Zanka’s pained expression. She headed to the trunk full of supplies.
Tomme quickly prepared a needle and stalked back to Zanka’s near-lifeless form on the ground. “Hold him steady,” she directed to Gris as she pulled up his sleeve to tie off circulation. She only paused momentarily, seeing the cuts on his skin. She then injected the sedative.
“What’s that?” Enjin asked mindlessly as he joined her at Zanka’s side.
Nobody answered him. It only took a second for Enjin’s brain to catch up to his mouth. Ah. Enjin once again found himself working his jaw. You idiot.
“Let us know when he’s good to move,” Gris said to their stand-in healer.
Tomme watched as Zanka’s expression became less pained. He almost looked peaceful, if not for the bruising and blood. “Should wait another minute or two to be safe, but he’s definitely not conscious anymore.”
They used all four of them to lift his body, trying to move his torso and head as little as possible. Zanka’s head rested on Tomme’s lap in the back of the car, Riyo watching over them from the trunk.
Gris once again took the driver’s seat, ensuring a safe ride back to HQ.
“He’ll be okay, right?” Riyo asked, feigning indifference.
“Once we get him to a healer, his body should be good as new.”
The rest of the car ride was in deafening silence.
…
Zanka has had a lot of nightmares in his life, which is why he typically avoided sleeping. He wasn’t stupid; he knew that he needed some sleep to function. But he only needed enough not to die.
When he did sleep, Zanka only ever saw memories. His brain never created fake scenarios. It didn't have to. Instead, it tortured him with his own experiences again and again.
That’s why, upon waking up in Cleaner HQ’s infirmary, Zanka immediately knew that the nightmare he’d just woken up from was real. His brain couldn’t make something like that up. And there’d be no other explanation as to why he found himself wrapped in bandages in a medical gown, or why his body felt like it had been run through by a trash beast.
Admittedly, Zanka wasn’t expecting to wake up alone. For reasons he couldn’t quite articulate, that feeling hurt worse than what he'd just been dreaming of. Maybe it was a small part of him that needed validation, someone to tell him everything was okay. But they weren’t there, and Zanka was all alone.
He knew it was only a matter of time, but he'd hoped the illusion of strength could be upheld a little bit longer. The one that he’d somehow fooled everyone into believing. He reached out for his Lovely Assistaff, laying her by his side. At least he wasn’t entirely alone.
His brain somehow felt...heavy. Something was wrong.
…
The next time Zanka woke, it was to Enjin and Riyo in his room. Neither seemed particularly chatty. Without moving his head, Zanka could see Riyo fiddling with her scissors while Enjin held his face in his hands. He wouldn’t be able to stay upright like that if he were asleep. He was waiting.
Zanka moved to sit up. It hurt far less than the last time; however, it still hurt. Guess they couldn’t heal everything. If he recalled correctly, their healer was somewhat new to the job, only having been there for a couple of months before Zanka joined. In the time since becoming a Cleaner, he'd managed to avoid entering the infirmary. Just how badly had he been injured? He stifled a groan as he forced his body to move.
Riyo stopped her fidgeting immediately. “He’s up,” she spoke quickly, nudging Enjin. Enjin’s head snapped up and his eyes zeroed in on Zanka. The man looked like he'd not slept in days.
Zanka pulled himself up until he was sitting properly, hands bunched in the blankets to steady himself. His head still pounded.
“Here, let me help.” Riyo came to his bedside, adjusting the bed’s position to a better angle. “You can lie back now.” He did so, remaining at an upright angle, but with less strain on his ribs. He went to thank her, but found he didn’t have the energy or will to speak out. Instead, he opted to nod his head. Even that motion left his stomach turning.
“How’re you feeling?” she pressed. He shrugged his shoulders and stared forward, not focusing on either of the room's occupants. For a brief moment, he wondered if they’d remain seated in silence.
“Why didn’t you fight back?” Enjin asked, his voice forcibly flat and emotionless. Restraining himself.
“Enjin-!”
“No, Riyo. You and I both know he could've wiped the floor with that bitch.” He turned his attention back to Zanka and leaned in closer. “So why didn’t you?”
Enjin was angry. Maybe even disappointed. Zanka knew the time would come. He just didn’t realize how guttural the feeling would be, how much it would feel like being beaten back down again.
Why didn't you fight back? No, Enjin was wrong. Zanka was no match for his sister. There would have been no point in doing anything when the outcome would have been the same. He’d simply accepted his fate.
But then again, had he even considered the possibility of struggle? He’d just cowered immediately. He couldn't remember exactly how things went down, but he knew that he never fought back. And he knew that it made Kyouka furious. Maybe that’s why he did it.
“Zanka, look at me.” The command cut through, and like a well-trained dog, he would obey. When they made eye contact, Zanka fought the urge to immediately look away. The older man looked… devastated. Shocked. He must have been surprised to see Zanka Nijiku cower in fear. His eyes furrowed, deep in thought. He must’ve been rethinking his decision to take in a damn stray.
Zanka really should have died in that well.
The eye contact was painful. It made the room even more suffocating. Zanka’s gaze broke away when Enjin said nothing. He couldn't take it anymore.
His eyes flit to Riyo's. She had… what can only be described as a look of pity. Like she had absolutely no idea what to say. Like he was fragile and would easily break.
He shut his eyes tightly. Stop looking at me like that. He hated being looked down on, in all forms. His sister looked down on him as nothing more than dust, but his team... They looked down on him like he was broken. Like he needed to be coddled. He didn't know which was worse. It infuriated him. His blood pumped harder in his body, heart racing. Both pairs of eyes bore into his soul. He felt exposed. Why hadn’t he fought back? Why did he just let Kyouka hurt him? What’s wrong with him?
His mind raced. He couldn't keep up with it.
Zanka realized he hadn’t been taking proper breaths. This was so stupid. The room was too hot. And why were there so many damn blankets on him—where are his clothes? Fuck, everything was going wrong at once. The same question repeated in his mind over and over and he hated the only answer he could come up with.
Why didn’t he fight back? Because he was absolutely terrified.
A hand grabbed his shoulder, hard. Enjin. “Zanka, snap outta it, come on man–- breathe.”
Zanka had stopped breathing entirely. He took a painful gasp. His throat burned. When was the last time he had water? It didn’t matter. He leaned into the painful feeling. He brought his arms up in front of himself, crossing them against his chest. He shook off Enjin’s hand, which thankfully didn’t return.
He just needed to ground himself, to get out of his own damn head. He dug his nails into the skin of his arms, trying to get the image of his sister out of his mind. Kyouka, his sister, looked down on him as less than a cockroach beneath her boot. A literal piece of shit. He grabbed his arms harder, breaking skin with his nails. Good.
“Zanka, stop, you’re hurting yourself!” Riyo yelled, her hands came on top of his, and she struggled against his grip. The air started to hurt. It felt like he was in a toxic zone. His breathing felt as shallow as it had while his sister kicked him down. When she crushed his ribs.
Riyo got one hand off, and Zanka opened his eyes, choking out a sob. Fuck. He couldn’t stop the tears from spilling over. Of course, this had to happen here. He felt like he was going insane. Like he was dying. He began to laugh as his breath turned to rasps, tears spilling down his cheeks. He was hyperventilating.
Enjin stood and booked it to the door. “Where are you going?!” Riyo called out desperately.
“To get someone who knows what the fuck to do right now.” He exited the room without turning around, leaving Zanka and Riyo alone. She continued trying to coax his hands away from harm, but Zanka kept an iron grip with his other hand.
Seconds later, Enjin re-entered, Gris in tow. “Enjin, what the hell’s going on? I was in the middle of--” Enjin threw him forwards into the room, and Gris cut himself off the moment he laid eyes on the scene before him.
“He’s not listening to us and hasn’t said a word. We don’t know what to do, Gris.”
It wasn’t like Enjin to be so disheveled. Let alone ask for help. Gris turned his attention to the teens in front of him. It was immediately clear that Zanka was having a panic attack. Eishia wouldn't be much help in this situation.
“Enjin, get me an ice pack. Riyo, I need you to take your hands off of him. It’s making him panic more.”
“Like hell. He’s hurting himself!”
"Listen to what he says," Enjin snapped.
“We all just need to calm down. He’ll be alright. Just let him go.”
Riyo reluctantly released her hands and watched as Zanka once again gripped both arms. “Zanka, I need you to listen to me. Can you try to take a deep breath for me?” Zanka only let out a choked sob and shook his head.
“Maybe his ribs are still messed up?” Enjin says, handing Gris the pack.
“While they’re not fully healed, I don’t believe this is from a physical injury,” the supporter replied. “Bear with me for a second,” He spoke quietly to Zanka before placing the cold pack to his exposed neck.
Zanka immediately straightened his spine, letting out a gasp as his eyes turned in shock to the source of the cold. Gris kept it in place as Zanka’s breath hitched around the sudden temperature change.
“What are you doing...?” Riyo asked hesitantly.
“Sending his body into shock. Resets the nervous system. It should calm him down, at least for the time being.” He continued to hold it in place as Zanka’s looked at his arm. He followed it back to Gris, then the rest of the room. The teen’s eyes became more aware as he took in his surroundings. “That’s it… Sorry for the rude greeting, but you were starting to hurt yourself there.”
Zanka looked down at his arms, letting Riyo gently guide his hands down and away from his bleeding skin. Zanka focused on slower, deeper breaths. Gris removed the ice.
“Feeling any better?” Zanka nodded after a long pause. He still looked quite dazed. Gris frowned, looking at the others questioningly.
“Hasn’t spoken since he woke up,” Enjin answered with a shrug.
“Hmm, well Eishia did say he’d have a nasty concussion. We’ll let her know about this once she’s awake.” He turned back to Zanka, “But you understand me okay?” A nod.
His eyes were empty. Whether that was from the concussion, or the recent course of events, was to be determined.
…
It took multiple days for Zanka to be cleared to leave the infirmary. He was still barred from any training. Not that it mattered. Once out of his hospital bed, Zanka found he barely had the energy to leave his room. So he didn’t. Just as he didn’t speak. At least now he and Lovely Assistaff could rest together in silence.
He’d gotten awfully familiar with the patterns on his ceiling.
…
“How’s he holding up?” Semiu would ask the remainder of team Akuta.
“The same,” Enjin answered simply.
“Still not speaking, then?”
“I said the same, yes.”
Semiu sighed, adjusting her glasses. “Anything else to report?” She turned to the rest of the room. Despite this, it was Enjin who once again filled the silence.
“I just don’t get it…why would he just…?”
Semiu gave him a sympathetic look. “The Nijiku clan are a… proud people. Historically, anyway, those of the main bloodline all grow up to lead sections of the hellguard. I imagine they didn’t take too kindly to Zanka’s chosen path.”
“No, I get that. The part I’m confused by is why Zanka didn’t do anything… It’s like he just accepted it.”
“Likely, he thought he deserved it.”
“The hell do you mean ‘deserved it –?!’” Riyo jumped in.
“As I said. The Nijiku are a proud people. They don’t accept failure. Just because Zanka left them physically doesn’t mean he’s shaken off the philosophy and ideas that they’d have instilled in him.”
“So, what, he thinks his family is right about him?”
“Whether consciously or not, yes, I believe so. If I remember correctly, Enjin, your initial report stated that you’d found him starved and waiting to die because he wasn’t the best in his class. I can’t imagine a single pep talk will break that kind of conditioning. He’s afraid of failure, and in his family’s eyes, that’s all he is.”
“He’s afraid and so… he wants to die?”
This is the first time Gris had heard of Zanka’s past. He had no idea that’s how they’d met. “In the future,” Gris looked to Semiu. “It would be wise to prevent any contact between Zanka and his family, even if there’s a job involved.”
…
It took multiple days to coax Zanka out of his room. It was out of necessity, really.
“Come on, man. Mope around all you want, but you still need to shower.” He was being dragged by Enjin and Riyo. His eyes had a constant glaze over them, like he wasn't fully present. They’d been told it was a part of his concussion, but Enjin worried it would be permanent. That they’d never get Zanka back from whatever pits of despair he had gotten himself trapped in. What if he didn’t climb out of the well this time?
Zanka stood aimlessly in front of the shower stall, like he had no idea where he was or what he was supposed to do.
“Oh for– Zanka, buddy, If you aren’t going to undress yourself I’ll have to do it for you.”
When no response came, Enjin followed through on his threat. Thankfully Zanka entered the shower of his own volition, and seemed to understand what to do from there. When he exited, towel around his waist, Enjin began to dress him.
“Come on, we’re getting you some real food.” He escorted him to the dining hall. The other cleaners had cleared out as requested, leaving only team Akuta and their supporters on site. Enjin placed a bowl in front of him and, as another miracle of the evening, Zanka didn’t have to be spoon-fed. The team fell into a comfortable silence as they ate.
…
Zanka knew he should say something. He had been trying to for days, but it’s like his body and mind were working on two separate systems. Enjin had to undress him to coax him into the shower. If he had the capacity, Zanka would feel even more humiliated. But he just didn’t care. It’s like a cloud covered his mind since his encounter with Kyouka. It’s all he could think about.
Over the subsequent days of bed rest since waking up in the infirmary, the fog slowly lifted. But Zanka still struggled to stay present. His mind wandered all too often. Mostly to thoughts and feelings that he’d rather avoid. But his team still stuck around, despite his current state. He wondered why. What would prevent them from just tossing him back out?
Enjin had said something when he’d first awoken. He’d seemed confident that Zanka could have fought back against Kyouka. Could have won. He’d brushed it off at first, denied it outright.
But now, the question gnawed at him. If he was strong enough to fight her, was he weak for not doing so? If so… why were they treating him so well? Why… would they…?
The table around him was sharing stories from past missions. Ones far before Zanka had joined. He felt like a bystander, a fly on the wall. Like he didn’t belong here. But still, he needed to know.
…
“And so Gris here, ever-loving idiot, decided it was a good idea to–”
“Enjin…?” A soft voice came from beside him. Zanka. The room became dead silent, waiting.
“Yes...?” Enjin tried to sound casual and not like a dad hearing his child’s first words. He held his breath. Zanka appeared nervous. Still, not as nervous as the team around him.
“Do ya think… that I'm weak? For not fighting Kyouka…?”
Of course that’s what’s been weighing on him. Damn Nijiku family. If Enjin saw those bastards again…
“No, Zanka, I don’t.” Enjin started, carefully thinking through what he wanted to say. Careful not to make everything worse. “I don’t think anybody’s weak for refusing to fight the people they care about. Even if those people want to hurt them.”
“...Really?”
“Ya, really. Besides, I don’t think ‘weak’ and ‘Zanka’ will ever fit together in the same sentence. At least, not in my books. You are strong, whether ya wanna believe it or not.”
For the first time since Kamuatari, Zanka looked like he’d come back to the world, at least a little bit. A light flickered in his eyes, one Enjin had nearly forgotten about. He looked up to Enjin in awe.
“Besides,” Enjin continued. “Weakness isn’t inherently a bad thing. It just means you know where you need to grow.”
Zanka’s brows furrowed at this, like the damn kid had never heard anything like it before. Fuck, Enjin really had his work cut out for him. “...So ya aren’t… sending me back or nothin’?”
What? Is that what he’d…
“Fuck no.” Riyo jumped in at Enjin’s stunned silence. “In fact, if you tried to leave us, I’d have to hurt you, myself.”
“Riyo-” Gris cautioned, before turning to Zanka to do damage control. “What she means is, we don’t want you to leave.”
“And you won’t ever have to go back to them, Zanka. I’ll make sure of it.”
The poor kid looked speechless, now for entirely new reasons.
“...Thank you, Enjin,” he whispered. He turned to Tomme, who had been silent up to now. “Tomme... I wanted to apologize… for yellin’ at ya. I shouldn’t have… ’m sorry.”
“Zanka… It’s… I’m the one who’s sorry. And, I’m here for you too, if you ever want to talk.”
Zanka nodded his head, feeling a bit awkward at the emotional vulnerability.
Enjin tentatively put his hand on Zanka’s shoulder. “We’re glad to have you back.”
…
“Damn, boss, didn’t take you for the sentimental type. It’s a little unnerving~” Riyo chimed in.
“Oh shut up, we were having a moment! You had’ta ruin it, didn’t you?!”
Zanka laughed, stunning the room yet again. It was in that moment Enjin realized just how much tension they’d all been carrying. As if they’d all been holding their breath since returning to HQ. Enjin hadn’t realized just how much Zanka’s absence was weighing on them all. How much it had been weighing on him. And how nice it was to hear the kid's laugh for the first time.
Zanka, the Zanka who moments ago had been lost to them, was now laughing alongside them. Slowly, very slowly, he was acclimating to the new environment. Into an environment that wouldn’t seek to crush him or break him down, but one that would build him up, stronger than ever.
…
“I think I get it now,” Zanka said to Enjin many weeks later. “I may not be so gifted like the rest ya… But I can become strong. Stronger than any natural talent. I won’t be weak no more. You'll see.”
And as much as Enjin wanted to step in and correct him--You are already strong--he let Zanka carry this dream, because it drove him forward, it lifted him up from despair.
The flame burned, and it illuminated others.