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There's nothing special about the day off.
Zanka treats it just like any other day. He wakes up at 5, spends an hour to prepare himself for the day and meditates, before he goes out for his morning training.
Day off means: he gets to train longer, arriving late for breakfast, fetching books to read from the library, helping Tomme do her notes, getting lunch before he trains some more.
Call him boring, but it's fulfilling in its own way.
There's nothing special about the day off.
Until Enjin changes it for him.
By knocking on his door, exactly before Zanka comes out of his room and goes to the yard to do his warm-up.
"Enjin?" A fist stops midair, doesn't even have the chance to rap on the wooden surface. Enjin's eyebrows shot up, like he doesn't expect Zanka to open the door already.
"Hey, Zanzan."
Zanka chooses to ignore the warmth enveloping his chest at the grin that accompanied the greeting.
"What are you doing here?"
Enjin slightly steps back, as if he realizes he has been standing too close to the door.
"Well, it's our day off," he says, like it isn't obvious.
Zanka doesn't respond, not wanting to interrupt him. "Like, the first time, after two missions in a row. So—"
Enjin dangles his sentence, as if he expects Zanka to finish, but Zanka genuinely doesn't know what he could possibly say to complete the statement.
There's nothing special about the day off.
While it's well-deserved for him and everyone to get a rest time after very packed weeks before, Zanka doesn't know what this has to do with Enjin.
The man usually has his own adventures: visiting the town, going places, socializing—you name it.
Day off is Enjin's specialty. Ask Semiu, she has to deal with Enjin's day off far too often.
So, why does Enjin stand in front of his room, right now?
"—so, we should never take the freedom for granted," Zanka finishes the sentence. Enjin seems delighted until Zanka speaks again. "You're gonna go out again?"
To his surprise, Enjin chuckles and goes to rub the back of his neck, bashfully?
Huh?
What?
The Enjin?
Acting bashful?
What kind of universe are they in, right now?
"I was hoping," Enjin clears his throat, he looks strangely nervous for someone's always sure and confident about everything. "We can go out."
Zanka doesn't miss the emphasis on the 'We' word, but unfortunately, his brain stops working after.
"There's actually a place I want to visit, in the town," Enjin says. "I always want to take you there."
Zanka blinks.
Surely, Enjin doesn't say what Zanka thinks he says?
"I think you'll like it," Enjin continues, this time with a soft smile, so gently Zanka has to consciously grip the doorknob, so he doesn't do anything stupid, like pulling Enjin by the front of his shirt or looping his arms around his neck.
Zanka might be head over heels for the man in front of his door, right now; but he still has dignity to maintain.
Before he could escape, Enjin clears his throat again.
"So, uh, you're available?"
Zanka suddenly doesn't know what to say.
There's nothing special about the day off.
Zanka treats it just like any other day.
He wakes up at 5, spends an hour to prepare himself for the day and meditates, before he goes out for his morning training. Day off means: he gets to train longer, arriving late for breakfast, fetching books to read from the library, helping Tomme do her notes, getting lunch before he trains some more.
Call him boring, but it's fulfilling in its own way.
There's nothing special about the day off.
Until Enjin reminds him that those days could be very much special.
"I think so," Zanka feels guilty when he pushes Assistaff behind the door, like he never means his lies to spread further, like an infectious disease.
Thanks to the door, his composure was still intact.
Zanka, however, doesn't have time to dwell on that, when the next thing he knows is Enjin reaches for his neck, pulling his head to his broad chest before carding his hand through Zanka's strands.
"Great, it's a date." Enjin whispers against the ash-colored hair.
Zanka can only freeze, doesn't know which one is worse: the action that currently affects him, or the word that suddenly sets his world off.
"Listen, Zanka."
Enjin hasn't let him go when Zanka can tell, with a great petrification, his lips drag even closer to his ear.
"I'm gonna romance you," Enjin says, half-threat, half-promise—while Zanka half-listens, because he's half-dead.
"I'm gonna show you, the whole Dating Enjin Experience."
There's nothing special about the day off.
But Zanka may have to change his opinion soon, if Enjin is determined to make it special.
And honestly, he wouldn't mind treating it as something special every now and then.
Especially if there's Enjin in the equation.