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Summary
“Can you hit me?”
“Excuse me?”
“Just punch me. Like, with your fist.” Zanka blinked absently. “I don’t believe you haven’t fought someone in your life.” Zanka remained still, entirely stunned. Jabber chuckled. “What, didn’t you just say you'd do-” Zanka sharply grabbed him by the hem of his shirt and raised a fist. Jabber didn’t flinch, wince, or even try to look like he was preparing to take a punch. He smiled.
Zanka's life working for city representative Corvus is just fine. Average, for someone like him. He can bring himself to ignore the cruelty the profession requires, until he meets the owner of a certain rundown gym, who's strange habits slowly begin to cut Zanka deeper than he could ever imagine.
heavily inspired by master peace by jumal