Chapter Text
Rudo crouched low on a broken concrete slab, fingers flexing in his gloves as his eyes tracked the ground ahead. With a squint, he scanned the surrounding piles of trash; he was finally getting used to the sight of such derelict terrain, especially after having been down on the Ground now for a while.
Despite the stink, the desolate landscape proved to be a sort of treasure hold, especially to Rudo. An old TV seemed to glisten and shine as he continued his once-over, almost as if it was squealing "Pick me! Pick me!" and man, he was tempted. Like… very tempted. Honestly, it wouldn't hurt to just take a little back to HQ to fix up right? He still had space in his backpack—
"Oi. Yer slacking off. We got a job to do y'know."
Rudo scowled.
Semiu had decided that he should go with Zanka in order to finally get some proper training — hopefully without any exterior raider interruptions, he bitterly notes. He begrudgingly pushed off his knees, turning to face his mentor but not without one last, longing look at the precious heaps of trash.
"Yeah, yeah. What ever."
Zanka seemed to roll his eyes at the clear flippant behaviour, before continuing to walk down the inconspicuous path between the broken objects. Despite being sent on a seemingly straight-forward mission, he couldn't help but be on guard.
Rudo just sighed then rushed to catch up. He wasn't exactly looking to be left behind either.
"Ah, wait up!" They both paused, pivoting to see Tomme hurrying with her clipboard in hand. Within seconds, she also rejoined their little rag-tag team. "Sorry! Got a bit distracted noting down a few things. Recently, in this area especially, there's been incidents of trash beasts behaving… differently. Strange, isn't it?"
Zanka grunted in reply, grip slightly tightening on Lovely Assistaff's handle.
"Different how?" Rudo asked, mostly out of curiosity. If anything, the Trash Beasts he’d run into lately hadn’t felt different at all.
"They’re more contained," Tomme said, tapping her pen against the board. "Less wandering. I've noticed it's been becoming an increasing trend and well— I'll cut myself off before I go on a tangent, but HQ's just gotta know."
Zanka glanced at her. That didn’t really sit right with him. He slowed a little, eyes drifting to the surrounding debris.
Sure enough, the trash here wasn’t scattered randomly. It felt like there were obvious gaps and crevices, giant gaps where trash should've been but instead sat empty space.
Almost as if something had displaced it…wait.
"Rudo. Get ready." He activated Assistaff.
"Huh? What for—
The ground shifted before Rudo could finish the sentence and, with a obnoxious crash, heaps of trash seemed to erupt simultaneously from the piles towering over the landscape. The sharp clink of metal sliding against metal echoed with high-pitched, deliberate scrapes.
The empty space Zanka had clocked a moment ago collapsed inward as something moved beneath it.
Tomme took a quick step back.
A Trash Beast surfaced slowly, almost cautiously, its bulk nature a contrast to its violent introduction. Plates of junk layered over one another like armour. It's shape looked eerily similar to an armadillo, except much, much larger… and also apparently capable of deploying spiked ranged attacks!?
"Shit!" Rudo jumped back, pivoting off crumpled beer cans and fallen over chunks of plastic in order to dodge the incoming barbs. He swiftly reached towards his backpack, before pulling out a steel pipe that had been half-broken off, forming something similar to a spear. It faintly glowed red, before its figure extended drastically to swipe away the incoming projectiles.
"Since when the hell they do that?" Rudo blurted out.
Zanka didn't even indulge him with a reply. He went in first, Lovely Assistaff striking hard to draw its attention. The impact rang out, sharp and clean—but the Beast barely reacted, pivoting instead, adjusting its stance so the blow glanced off reinforced plating.
Using the brief clash, Rudo circled wide, scanning for an opening. Every time he thought he had one, the Beast compensated, shifting debris into place, screeching a terrible, agitating sound that seemed to pierce through his ears.
Zanka clicked his tongue. "Annoying."
Lovely Assistaff smashed down again, her form creating a small dent in the hardened shell of the Beast. It roared again in response, spikes of broken plastic and glass raining down.
Then—
Rudo spotted a narrow gap near the Beast’s side when it spun in a frenzied rage to block Zanka’s next strike. He didn't hesitate. He rushed in, planting his foot on a slab of broken concrete and launching himself forward.
But the Beast reacted faster than he expected.
A tail emerged from under its carapace, and with one frantic swipe, it came down on him, hard; he twisted, attempting to avoid the worst of it, but the edge still caught him mid-motion. Pain flared hot along his arm. He hit the ground hard enough to rattle his teeth.
"Rudo!" Zanka barked.
"I’m fine—" The lie fell apart immediately when Rudo tried to push himself up. His arm screamed in protest, strength giving out halfway. Shit.
Lovely Assistaff twirled again, tearing apart the offending shell as if it was her master who had gotten hurt. Zanka swore and moved without hesitation. He drove Lovely Assistaff straight into the exposed section of the Beast’s frame, leveraging the moment it had over committed. With a faint hiss and a glow of perforating blue, the armadillo stilled as various spikes suddenly impaled clean through to the other side. Metal buckled. Then its form completely crumpled to dust.
Silence followed, broken only by Rudo’s uneven breathing.
Zanka was at his side almost instantly. "Don’t move."
Rudo winced as Zanka grabbed his sleeve, helping him sit up. "I said I’m—"
"—hurt," Zanka cut in flatly. He glanced at Rudo’s arm, jaw tightening. "Yeah. You are."
Rudo followed his gaze, flexing his fingers experimentally. Bad idea. He sucked in a sharp breath. "…Okay. Maybe a little."
"Tch." Zanka pulled him to his feet anyway, keeping a firm grip. "Shouldn'ta gotten cocky, you twerp. Run in without thinking and you get punished."
Rudo huffed but then winced as it jostled his arm. "You sound like Semiu."
"Learn faster, then."
For a moment, Zanka seemed to stare intensely at the wound.
"…You’re going to the infirmary," he added after a beat.
Rudo didn’t argue.
They didn’t get far before Tomme cleared her throat behind them.
"Hold on," she said, already setting her clipboard down on a slab of concrete. "Before we move him any further."
Rudo stopped. "It’s not that bad."
It's manageable, especially compared to what my hands already feel like without my gloves.
"I didn’t say it was," Tomme replied evenly. With a tug, she pulled him to sit on the concrete slab before she too crouched beside Rudo, eyes flicking to his arm. "But if we wait until Eishia sees this, it’s just going to swell more."
She pulled a small kit from her bag—nothing fancy. Wraps, antiseptic, a couple of fasteners. She worked with firm efficiency, but each movement still held a gentle, motherly care as she tentatively swabbed the wounded vicinity.
"This’ll just make sure it doesn't get infected," she stated as she wrapped his arm. Her voice then took on a more bantering tone. "Eishia's a lovely healer, but I don't want to stress her out more because a certain someone can't seem to stay outta trouble. Make sure not to move it too much."
With that, she briefly patted his head before pushing off her knees to start towards the car.
Zanka watched the whole thing in silence, arms crossed. Once Tomme had already taken a few steps and Rudo still hadn't budged, he nudged him lightly with his foot. "You done?"
"Yeah," Rudo said. "I think."
"Good. Let’s go."
The walk back to the car was slower. Zanka kept a steady pace, just enough that Rudo didn’t have to rush. Tomme followed behind them again, already scribbling notes like she hadn’t just finished playing medic. The car was parked a little ways out, tucked between two collapsed structures. Tomme unlocked it and slid into the driver’s seat without much fanfare, just a simple sigh as she sunk into the well-loved seats.
Rudo climbed into the back, awkwardly angling himself so his arm wouldn’t knock into anything. Zanka took the front passenger seat. They started to pull away, the Ground fading into more piles of junk and broken paths. Rudo leaned his head back against the seat, eyes half-lidded.
Man, he was tired.
He took another long, slow blink, watching as the widow rattled slightly with each jolt of uneven terrain. It was oddly peaceful staring at the piles of trash whizz by.
Tomme's driving was nice. Really nice.
Nice enough that he felt like he could just rest his eyes for a bit.
Just…for a bit.
The next thing Rudo registered was the car slowing down. The rattling had stopped. The Ground wasn’t moving past the window anymore.
"…We’re here," Tomme said, already unbuckling.
Rudo groaned softly and shifted, immediately regretting it when his arm protested. He sucked in a breath through his teeth.
Zanka was out of the car before he could say anything. He opened the back door and looked down at him. "Don’t play dead."
"I wasn’t," Rudo muttered. "I was resting."
"Yeah, yeah. Sure."
Rudo sat up slowly, careful this time. Zanka seemed to stare but he didn't pry or try to offer help.
And thank goodness for that! He didn't need his pity or help for a stupid, simple scratch. He would've probably swiped his hand away if he had even tried. Noticing that Tomme had already made it to the door and was holding it open for them, the pair rushed towards her and headed inside.
The infirmary smelled the same as always. Clean, a little bitter, but still on the cusp of cosiness as a faint vanilla scent filled the air. Eishia was always nice like that. She didn't want her patients to feel like they were isolated in a sterile environment — although that wasn't to say she didn't have a sterile environment, she totally did, she just made an effort to make it comfortable.
Eishia noticed them immediately.
"Oh no! What happened?" she questioned, already standing and heading towards Rudo.
"He got swiped by the trash beast we were fighting."
"Ah. Of course." Her eyes flicked to Rudo’s arm. "Sit."
Rudo did, dropping onto the nearest bed, whilst Zanka leaned slightly off to the side against a wall. The thin mattress dipped under his weight. Eishia peeled back Tomme’s temporary wrap with shy but practised efficiency, her movements slow, careful not to tug too hard. "Um— sorry," she said quietly, even though she hadn’t actually hurt him.
Her expression remained shy with an underlying hint of worry.
"It’s fine," Rudo replied, watching the ceiling instead of her hands.
She really is nice, he noted, she's a great person.
She pressed along his arm with tentative fingers, pausing when she felt resistance. Her brows knit together. "…It’s strained," she said after a moment, already reaching for fresh bandages. "But not… not too bad."
Rudo glanced over. "So I’m not broken."
She shook her head quickly. "N-no. I mean— you should still rest. But it should heal on its own."
She hesitated, eyes flicking towards her vital instrument. Her fingers twitched like she might reach for it, then stopped.
"I don’t think you need this," she said, quieter now. "If I use it when it’s not necessary, it can… overdo it." She looked back at him, uncertain. "I think bandaging it properly is better. If that’s okay."
Rudo blinked, then nodded. "Yeah. That’s fine."
Her shoulders relaxed a little. She cleaned the injury carefully, apologizing again when he flinched. "Sorry— I know it stings."
"It’s okay," he said, meaning it.
When she finished wrapping it, she stepped back, hands clasped together. "You should stay here for a bit," she added. "Just to make sure it doesn’t swell too much."
Eishia started to walk away, heading back to her little office. At the edge of the warded-off section, she pulled the curtain partway closed, hesitating before leaving. "…If it starts hurting more, or if you feel dizzy, please tell me."
"I will," Rudo said.
She gave a small, relieved smile before slipping out.
The infirmary quieted again.
Rudo settled back into the bed, arm aching dully but supported now. It wasn’t so bad. Not with how careful she’d been.
Honestly, it barely hurt.
That thought sat there for a second, then soured.
Barely hurt, and he’d still flinched. Still sucked in a breath like it mattered. Like this was anything compared to the constant sting in his hands, the dull burn that never really went away. He dealt with that every day without thinking about it. This was nothing.
So why did it feel so loud now?
He stared up at the ceiling, jaw tightening. Pathetic. Getting knocked out of commission over one bad hit. Enjin probably would've made fun of him. Riyo would probably stifle a giggle. And Zanka had already chastised him, probably considering him a complete waste to train—
He exhaled slowly, forcing his shoulders to relax. It didn’t even hurt that much. He should stop—
The curtain rustled.
Rudo’s thoughts scattered immediately, which he was more grateful for than he wanted to admit.
"Jeez, yer a lil' jumpy right now, huh?"
Rudo turned his head. "When did you—"
Zanka stepped inside fully, holding a small paper bag by the top. It looked slightly crumpled, like it’d been shoved into a pocket and taken back out again.
Rudo frowned. "What’s that."
"Nothing."
"That’s a bag."
Zanka sighed, clearly annoyed and already sounding tired of this. "Yeah. Obviously."
Rudo pushed himself up a little, propping himself against the pillow. His arm complained, but he ignored it. "Where’d you even get that."
Zanka looked away. "Went out."
Went out.
Rudo blinked. That was it?
"…Out where."
Zanka shrugged, stiff. "Does it matter?"
Rudo blinked slowly, then tilted his head. "I didn’t even notice you leave."
That earned him a look. "Tch. Exactly," Zanka muttered. "You were out of it."
Was I?
Rudo tried to remember. He had been drifting in and out. Still, the idea that Zanka had come and gone without him clocking it made his chest feel a little strange. Zanka stepped forward and set the bag down on the small table beside the bed. The paper crinkled softly. Rudo glanced inside without meaning to—
Sweets.
Not the chalky ration kind. Real ones. Wrapped adequately with all the fancy packaging that the proper stuff from the Vianders had.
Oh.
"…Wait," he said. "You left to get these?"
Zanka didn’t answer right away. He just looked at the bag, then at Rudo. And for a split second—barely there, like he’d forgotten himself—his mouth curved up. Then, Zanka seemed to realize what he was doing and immediately straightened, expression flattening like a switch had been flipped. He looked away, arms crossing, like that settled it. "Don’t read into it."
Rudo looked from the bag back to him. The confusion drained, replaced by something warmer and a little embarrassing. Oh. Oh, he actually—
He stared at him for a second longer than necessary. "You smiled."
"I did not."
"You did."
Zanka shot him a glare. "You’re hallucinating. Head injury."
Rudo snorted, then winced a little as his arm tugged. He leaned back again, still eyeing the bag. "…You went out and got these?"
"Tch. Don’t make it weird."
"It is weird," Rudo said, honest. "You hate going out."
Zanka clicked his tongue. "I was already out."
"You literally weren’t."
"Shut up."
Rudo smiled despite himself. Something warm settled in his chest, awkward and unfamiliar. He reached in with his good hand, slowly unwrapping one of the sweets.
"Hey," Zanka said.
Rudo paused. "…What."
Zanka hesitated. "Don’t— don't eat it all at once. Yer ass is known for absolutely devouring all the sweets whenever we get them."
Rudo looked at him. "…You just told me to eat them."
"Yeah, but—" Zanka stopped himself, scowling. "Just— whatever."
He’s bad at this, Rudo thought, fond and tired. Painfully bad.
He popped the sweet into his mouth. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it was… real. Sugary. Nice.
"…These are good," he said.
Zanka scoffed. "Obviously."
Rudo chewed, then added, genuinely, "Thanks."
Zanka stiffened. "I told you not to—"
Before he could finish, Rudo reached for another.
Zanka’s hand shot out, snatching the bag up off the table. "Alright. That’s it."
Rudo stared. "…What."
Zanka lifted the bag like he was about to walk off with it. "I’m taking these back. Yer ungrateful ass doesn’t deserve ’em."
"What do you mean ungrateful—I literally just said thank you!"
"Yeah, after inhaling one like a feral animal."
Rudo frowned, then immediately reached out with his good hand. "Hey. No."
Zanka stepped back. "Hands off."
"Nuh uh."
Zanka raised a brow. "You wanna try that again?"
Rudo leaned forward, ignoring the twinge in his arm. "Give them back."
Zanka held the bag higher. "Make me."
They stared at each other for a beat.
Then Rudo lunged—poorly, awkwardly, half-sliding off the bed.
Zanka yelped. "Oi—!"
They both fumbled, Rudo grabbing the bottom of the bag while Zanka tried to yank it away, paper crinkling loudly between them.
"Zanka!"
"Let go!"
"You’re the one who—!"
"Stop moving, you’re injured!"
"That’s your fault—!"
The door creaked open.
"…Wow."
Both of them froze.
Enjin stood in the doorway, arms loosely crossed, eyes flicking between Rudo half off the bed and Zanka gripping the bag like it was a life-or-death struggle. A slow, amused smile spread across his face. "…Am I interrupting something?"
Zanka let go immediately — a half-assed scowl on his face — shoving the bag back into Rudo’s chest. "Nope."
Rudo hugged it on instinct. "Yes."
Enjin chuckled, shaking his head. "I let you guys go on a mission together again once…"
Zanka turned away, muttering, "He started it."
Rudo leaned back against the bed, breathless and smiling despite himself. Worth it.
Enjin’s gaze softened as he watched them, fond and quiet. "…Try not to break the infirmary, yeah?"
He stepped back out, still smiling to himself.
Zanka stayed put for a moment longer, ears red, jaw tight. Great. Enjin saw that. His shoulders stiffened. Why did I even pick a fight over sweets? He ground his teeth slightly. And he’s grinning. He’s actually grinning. This is… terrible. Terrible, but…
He let out a small, frustrated huff. Why do I care so much that he’s happy?
"…Don’t eat all of them," he muttered finally, voice low, as if saying it would erase the memory of the chaos.
Rudo grinned, not missing a beat. "No promises."
Zanka was grateful that Rudo didn't decide to point out how easily he had caved and given in after Enjin entered. He looked away again, tugging at his collar, silently cursing both himself and the situation. But… somewhere in the back of his head, he felt a tiny, reluctant satisfaction that Rudo was happy.
Damn it.