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Zanka had always heard of the concept of the ocean. It was a very large body of salted water that covered vast stretches of land; at least, that was the basic definition. The bland and boring version you’d find in a textbook. The kind that didn’t really tell him anything at all, and just made the ocean sound like just another thing that happened to exist.
But he couldn’t have been more wrong.
Kyouka and Goka were required to know a vast amount of knowledge. It was standard Hell Guard training, but Zanka had it easier than them, thankfully. Whenever his siblings were forced to stay up late and study, he was free to read something less tedious. That was where he truly fell in love with the ocean.
The real ocean was nothing like the definition. The pictures alone were enough to stop him from reading the words on the side. A wide stretch of blue, rolling out farther than the eye could see. Gentle waves moved across the surface, catching the light and making it shimmer like cut glass. The water looked impossibly clear, almost unreal. He could practically feel the steady wind brushing against his face and hear the rhythm of the tide.
It wasn’t like the water they drank, those felt monotonous. This one felt like gems adorned the surface of a delicate sheet. And Zanka couldn’t stop thinking about it ever since.
Of course, Kyouka and Goka noticed his attachment to the book.
“It’ll turn you into a filthy Giver, Zanka,” Kyouka said, and tried to snatch the book from Zanka’s hand. He twisted his body as fast as he could, as a last minute attempt to protect it.
“Don’t get attached to insignificant objects like this.”
“But onee-san, I-”
“Are you talking back to me? Quit wasting your time reading about fiction; we have to begin training now.”
Zanka bit the insides of his mouth, he hated it sometimes. How he needed to throw away everything that piqued his interest, because it posed a tiny risk. It’s not like he will become a Giver overnight. It’s not like he will choose this book over his future. But it was Hell Guard, and to become like his older sister and brother, he knew he needed to listen to them. They’re so outstanding, surely, if Zanka just followed, he’d be able to become them too.
“Yes, Onee-san.” He bowed, and handed over the book without any more hesitation.
His fingers lingered on the frame for just a second longer, though it wasn’t even on command; it was probably an accident anyway.
But Kyouka saw it differently, her observant gaze saw it differently.
Next thing Zanka knew, she ripped the book in front of his face. Each page was torn so cleanly, and into such small bits, it was essentially impossible to piece them back together. Not that Zanka wanted to…why would he?
And for good measure, Kyouka dug her heels into the pieces, so that they were cemented in the ground.
“It’ll help, Zanka. I’m getting rid of distractions,” she said matter-of-factly. And something really stung in the younger boy’s chest, but he swallowed it down.
“Yes, Onee-san.”
She nods in approval, before leaving. Zanka quickly followed suit, knowing he was going to fight for his life once more.
.
.
.
It has been years since that incident, and Zanka has long forgotten about the book. It played a minimal role in the grand scheme of things, as he still ended up becoming a Giver either way. It was bound to happen, and Kyouka was displeased to say the least, but he had long stopped caring about her opinions.
The book would’ve stayed forgotten honestly, the ocean would’ve stayed forgotten alongside it, if he hadn’t eavesdropped. But he did, accidentally.
Zanka was just leaning on his chair, and zoning out at the canteen. Riyo and Rudo had asked him to tag along, but he really didn’t feel like contributing to their -and Tomme’s- talk about whether trashbeasts could be fueled by other things, such as honey or fizzy drinks. Riyo was probably just there to get a laugh, Tomme was the genuine curious one, and Rudo just wanted to imagine more sweets.
It was so dumb, and Zanka really didn’t feel like engaging with that whatsoever.
But boredom could only be tolerated for so long, as soon enough, he found himself tuning into others’ conversations. Guita and Dear were talking about drawing with Remlin soon, Tamsy was chatting with Delmon about their recent mission.. All boring stuff.
“...Zanka.”
Now, that caught the blonde’s attention.
From a distance, Zanka could hear his name being mentioned, and suffice to say, he wanted to know what. He tilted his head a little, to find the source of the voice, and to his surprise, it was the supporter, who recently turned into a Giver. (Zanka forgot about that actually, he only just remembered when he laid his eyes on Follo)
Enjin and Gris shoved him around playfully as the new-Giver buried his face in his hands. Zanka furrowed his eyebrows, were they teasing Follo? But for what?
“Can’t believe you…resident rich…HOPELESS!” Enjin laughed, his words were cut in between his breaths. Which was less than amusing for Zanka, since he cannot make out a single thing that the man was saying.
“Hey! ….” Gris said, which was inaudible for Zanka. That man was way too calm and composed sometimes, though, Zanka supposes that’s not a bad thing.
After a back and forth of only being able to hear snippets of their conversation, Zanka was growing increasingly frustrated. Rudo was certainly not helping, with his random outbursts of yells and exclamations.
At some point, it was all too overwhelming for him. As much as Zanka hates to pry, he stood up from his seat and made his way over to Follo, Gris and Enjin.
“Oh hey, Zan-zan. Fancy seeing you joining us!” Enjin ushered Zanka to take a seat, and the boy didn’t take a moment to hesitate; immediately finding himself comfortable beside the supporter.
“Whatcha guys talkin’ ‘bout?” He asked.
“Oh nothingggg…Follo over here was daydreaming about the ‘ocean’” Enjin put really heavy emphasis on Follo and ocean, which honestly sparked something in Zanka.
It has been a long time since he has heard that word, and thank god, the first thing that came into his head was the stunning picture he saw as a kid.
“Enjin! You can’t sell me out like that” Follo cried out dramatically, his hands ruffling his hair profusely.
“Aw come on, if you aren’t going to say anything, it’s my duty-”
“I think it’s enough teasing from you, Enjin. You are most certainly drunk,” Gris chuckled, covering Enjin’s mouth before he embarrasses his mentee.
“The ocean huh,” Zanka hummed, and as tired as he sounded, the mention of it really made his heart skip a beat “tis’ really gorgeous.”
“Y-Yeah! Uhm, I live in the North Ward, so whenever the snow melts, our ponds are filled with clear water. That’s basically how I imagined the ocean, but just more vast and stretching beyond our vision,” Follo explained, and Zanka could feel the passion in his voice, similar to his fondness.
“Mhm, I saw a picture of it once. Tis’ was years ago though,” he reminisced. “ ‘ve never seen anythin’ like the ocean.”
“We could go to my home, if you want to see the large pond there! It’s similar to the ocean, or at least I think so,” Follo jumped in excitement, turning to Zanka.
“That sounds great,” Zanka said, trying his best to pay attention.
In reality, the moment he sat next to the supporter, his gentle smell of fabric softener alongside the small hint of perfume, which really drew him in. He could feel his muscles relax more, and paired with his calmer voice -especially after having to listen to Rudo- Zanka softened up as well.
“Ya should tell me more ‘bout the ocean,” he said. It was a shame Zanka didn’t get to finish the book back then, so maybe Follo would be able to tell him more.
And Follo does, actually. He overdoes it, but the blonde wasn’t going to complain.
“The water is really refreshing, even if most of it is undrinkable salt water, it still feels nice to play around with! Alan and I used to play around in the pond, and it felt like going out on a rainy day with a raincoat…” he rambled on and on, describing everything he could. And Zanka can’t be more thankful than right now.
Slowly, he found himself drifting to sleep. The last thing he remembers was falling onto something soft and cozy, before being completely knocked out.
.
.
.
It has become a norm, as much as Zanka hated to admit. He often found himself knocking on Follo’s door, whether it was for sparring sessions or just chatting; he always ended up there.
At first, he was kind of embarrassed by it, his hand always hovering over the door knob for way too long. At times, he turned tail and ran back to his room.
Zanka doesn’t know why he’s even that stressed, Follo was nice, maybe even the nicest guy he’s ever met. He would always look out for everyone, bring back souvenirs for the team, and chitchat with others. Traits that made him extremely friendly, unlike Zanka himself. He would always be backing him up during missions, bringing food and snacks for whenever Zanka was injured, or going all the way to sleep beside him to make sure he was alright. It really made Zanka’s heart do backflips and front flips at the same time. Why would someone even bother with a failure like him? The question plagued him constantly, and Zanka doubts he will ever find the answer to that.
“Hey Zanka,” someone called out from behind, which startled him and his train of thoughts. The ash-blonde quickly turned to look at the source of the voice, which was Follo himself. “What are you doing in front of my room?”
Well shit. Honestly, Zanka wasn’t sure himself. He felt stressed, and wanted Follo’s company for a second. But that thought alone increased his stress level tenfold. At this point, he was simply digging himself in a deeper hole than before.
“I was just..passin’ by,” Zanka muttered, though he knew this excuse was nothing but a lie. He was here ‘cause he wanted to, and he’s aware as well.
Follo raised a brow, likely questioning Zanka’s integrity right now. The embarrassed blush on his face told a different story, which made Follo chuckle more than anything. “Right, do you want to come in? I bought a new book recently, I think you might like it.”
The younger boy nodded curtly, pushing the door open as fast as he could. Anything to get out of the public; he really didn’t need anyone seeing him all red right now. “So, what is it?”
“Gimme a second,” Follo made his way to his shelf, flipping through his stacks of books and souvenirs. “Ah, here it is!”
The supporter pulled out a thick book; the entire cover was blue, alongside the pages inside.
“Why’s it so blue?” Zanka murmured without much thought, and then realized how stupid that question sounded. Why did he even ask that? Oh sphere the things that Follo does to his brain..
“Cause it’s about the ocean,” Follo chirped, bringing it over to the bed and ushering Zanka to lay down with him. “The author visited the one apparently, and they documented their entire trip. This is her diary.”
“How did ya even getchur hands on this?” Zanka asked, looking over at the cover.
“Oh, the owner of a store was selling this, I was just lucky to stumble upon it before others did!” Follo explained, pushing the book into Zanka’s hands.
“I see,” the ash blonde slid his fingers around the book, holding it gently. The book did seem old, and covered in paint. Probably someone from canvas town then. “This feels really precious, I wonder why she sold it.”
“Uhm, I’m not so sure myself,” Follo sighed, “I was in a rush when I bought it, and didn’t get a chance to ask.”
Zanka hummed in response; opening up the book and looking inside the pages. They were mostly documentations of the author’s trip to the ocean, what she saw and what she did. Zanka continued flipping, skimming through the words, and making a mental note about anything related to the waters. All the lines for description were so beautiful, and allowed him to conjure up a mental image of the place.
Oh sphere, how he wishes he could go there with his Lovely Assistaff and Follo.
“They’re all…stunning,” Zanka muttered, “the author’s paintings and descriptions are on ‘nother level.”
“Yeah, when I first read it, I had literal daydreams about the ocean,” Follo confessed, “so what do you think?”
“Found a real gem, Follo,” Zanka mutters, his eyes still glued to the book.
Follo flashed a bright smile, “then it’s all yours! Consider it as a welcome back gift, since you got hit pretty badly during the doll festival.”
“Ya really don’ need-”
“I insist; accept the gift please? You’re a lot smarter than me, maybe you can even figure out where the ocean’s located!” Follo flipped onto his back, using his hand to cover the light on the ceiling. “And then, let’s go visit the ocean!”
“Wait wha-” Zanka’s entire face went red. How can this idiot read his exact thoughts? Urgh, Follo was way too nice for his own good. “..Fine.”
“Then that’s a deal. I’m way too dumb for geography, so I’ll trust you with guiding us, Zanka!”
.
.
.
It wasn’t supposed to end like this.
Zanka didn’t ask for this, so why is it always him?
All he wanted was to simply see the ocean, with Lovely Assistaff and Follo beside him.
It wasn’t that much to ask for…right?
It’s not like he was asking to live a fulfilling life, it’s not like he was being unreasonably greedy. All the things he wanted, he had worked long and hard for them. It took him ages to map out the route to the ocean from the HQ, based on descriptions from the book. Sleepless nights spent on reading and matching; all he asked for was a chance.
But of course, on the day he planned to go with Follo, they encountered the Raiders.
No one else struggled, other than Zanka. He fought to the brim of death, Lovely Assistaff has never felt this heavy before. The maniac laugh from the Raider echoed through the battlefield, his claws kept appearing in front of Zanka’s face and he just wanted it to fucking stop. Zanka was tired, he was restless…the thrill had long died down, the enjoyment of the fight had long been gone. The blood in his stomach made him dizzy; the poison in his veins made him want to puke. It was replaced with pure survival instinct, as he lifted his staff once more to block an incoming attack. His breaths were short, his gas mask long discarded on the side.
“C’mon Mr. Bad Attitude, don’t tell me that’s all you’ve got?” Jabber yelled with amusement, “yer holding back on lil ol’ me again, arent’cha?”
Zanka didn’t reply to the taunt, the blood made his brain way too fuzzy to think. His posture was faltering, and he knew it, but the adrenaline kept him going. He couldn’t die, he didn’t want to end like this…not again.
He knew the other could tell his fighting spirit was dying down, as Jabber’s smile began dropping into frown.
“Yer boring now,” he said; his back slowly straightened as he unsummoned Mankira. “Where’d all the potential go, man?”
Zanka bit his lips hard, blood dripping down. He could feel his grip tightening around Lovely Assistaff; his body shook, but he continued to stand on his ground. Jabber’s words stung more than he thought. Why did it matter? It wasn’t like Jabber was anyone important to him. Was it because he saw potential in him, and now Zanka has disappointed him too? Why did that matter…It shouldn’t, and he knows damn well it shouldn’t matter at all. So then why-
"Zanka's an amazing Giver,” someone cut in, a familiar energetic voice. “You’ll have to get past my dead body, if you even think about slandering him like that.”
“Oh? And who are you?” Jabber raised a brow.
“A nobody,” Follo replied, as he stepped into view.
Never has an adrenaline rush die down so fast, and never has Zanka found peace so quickly too.
“Leave it to me.” The supporter turned towards Zanka, his stern expression replaced with something softer, “I won’t run anymore, especially not this time.”
The ash-blonde huffed and wiped the blood off his chin, well, if Follo was here, then he might as well fight till the end. With his shaky hands, he pushed himself up. “I’ll…fight with you.”
Follo nodded in response, activating Alan. The large hammer clearly made Jabber’s mind rush with excitement. He reactivated Mankira, already clawing at Follo. However, the supporter didn’t run, standing his ground as a defender while Zanka lifted Lovely Assistaff high in the air, and had it crashing down at Jabber when he got close enough. The moment Mankira and Lovely Assistaff clashed, Follo moved Alan towards Jabber; his agility and moves were akin to Zanka’s, it was clear that Follo trained under him.
The impact with Alan was large enough to send the Raider flying back, yet his grin only seemed to grow.
“Is that who you were dealing with all the time?” Follo asked in worry, to which Zanka nodded with agony in his eyes. The poison was always terrible, and Eishia could never flush them out of his system, so he had to experience withdrawal symptoms twice. Which were also the worst weeks of his life.
“It’s a pain.”
.
Well, they thought they were winning. However, that was far from the truth. The moment another Raider found Follo again, a short blue-haired girl, Zanka and him lost all sight of victory. Her attacks were fierce, but calculated. And she was barely scratched when she fought the supporter. Paired with Jabber’s manic moves and poison, it was almost impossible to win against them. They were lucky Zodyl called them back, since his business was done; only then did the two Cleaners breathe again.
Zanka was injured from head to toe, and Follo wasn’t any better. Alan did protect him from a lot of hits, but scratches laced with poison still got to him. They both sat next to a pile of rubble, leaning all their weight on it as Lovely Assistaff rested beside Zanka, and Alan hanging loosely in Follo’s hands.
“Hey…Follo,” he said, after a while of silence.
“Yeah?”
“How’d ya find me? I saw ya gettin’ dragged away and then vanishing into thin air.”
“Oh, yeah. It was the blue-haired Raider. I think her Jinki allowed her to teleport through that hole,” he explained. “I slipped away the moment I could, it wasn’t far away.”
“Ah…I see,” Zanka hummed. “Let’s call…En,” his voice was becoming more frail from all the bloodloss. He needed to inform his leader on his current state after all.
“I’ll do it, you need to keep applying pressure on your cut,” Follo reminded, and he nodded back, his hand was partially digging into the wound at this point. Zanka needed to stay awake, even if the price was a little uncomfort.
Enjin wasn’t picking up…which never meant anything good– though luckily enough Gris answered… But the first thing he heard pierced his ears, to the point he physically flinched backwards. “Follo! Where are you?!”
“I’m with Zanka! The Raiders left, we can head back to HQ right-”
“Don’t come back, we are under attack! If you’re hurt, do not come back to the HQ,” Gris yelled. “Team Akuta is injured, if you come back, you’ll be killed here- just, get to safety Follo. Anywhere. I just need you to be safe, we’ll find you two when it’s all over.”
No words escaped the supporter for a solid second. He inhaled deeply, “yeah, okay. Stay safe Gris.”
“Zanka, we need to get you to a doctor,” Follo said, standing up and offering a hand to Zanka.
He was right. The ash-blonde knew that the supporter was right. He needed medical attention immediately, with the poison in his body, and the blood pouring out of his abdomen, and likely head trauma from the amount of hits he had to tank; he was not in shape to do anything substantial.
But Zanka had something else planned…Zanka wanted to do something else. He walked all the way out here to find the ocean. It was nearby…If only he could see it before going back. He didn’t drag Follo all the way out here just to go back empty handed.
“I know,” he said, wiping the blood from his mouth as he grabbed Follo’s hand. His legs were shaky and weak; to the point he could barely walk a step without falling. “Follo…could ya do somethin’ fo’me though?”
“Anything,” the reply came instantly.
Zanka smiled softly, “ ‘course ya’d say that.” He lifts his head up, facing the direction of the ocean, or at least, where he assumed it to be. “Let’s go visit the ocean, Follo.”
“Zanka, you seriously in-”
“I know. But…they’ll come for us later, right? We’re already ‘ere, I really…wanna go see it.”
The supporter frowned, his expression growing increasingly worried. “Zanka…it’s really not worth it. We can always go another day, we can…go with the rest of the team too…”
“Follo,” Zanka called. “Please.” ‘I don have long to live anymore’ was left unsaid. He’s inhaled polluted air for longer than 15 minutes by now –since Jabber knocked it off– he knows his body is going to shut down any moment.
“I– okay,” of course, Follo being the nicest person known to mankind, agrees to Zanka’s request.
.
It was a short walk, around 5 minutes with their pace. Once the ocean was within view, it was hard to miss.
Though, it seems like the book’s description of the ocean was drastically different from the one visible. What was supposed to be pristine and clean water, was instead replaced with a greenish hue. The coastline was filled with garbage and trash, to no one’s surprise. The entire place just looked dull and dim; a very stark contrast compared to the one drawn in the book.
“I can’t say I’m surprised,” Follo commented, which to be fair, was true.
Zanka was speechless; all he could muster up was a laugh, but with his condition, it was at best a chuckle. “Yeah…me neither.”
They still go though. Follo kicked away some of the trash littering the coastline to create a spot to sit down. Zanka leaned on Follo, his vision growing darker and darker as time went on. The pressure on his wound stopped working, and it was getting harder to keep his eyes opened.
Zanka used his last remaining strength to look at the boy, who changed his perspective on love. His eyes also seemed to be closing, whether it was from fatigue, as long as he had the mask on, Zanka would die with relief. It’s honestly a miracle how Follo hasn’t noticed the missing mask on his face, but that was for the best…
“Feels cold,” Zanka muttered, “and ‘m tired.”
Follo didn’t waste a second taking off his Cleaner uniform, and wrapping the jacket around Zanka like a blanket. “You need the rest… Eishia will help you later, and we’ll be safe.” He gently guided Zanka’s head on his lap instead, allowing the ash-blonde to get some proper sleep.
Zanka hummed in response. Maybe, by some miracle, it would end that way.