Chapter Text
Zanka heard the rustle outside his door,a little before the time he was supposed to be awake. He jerked up,
No. No, no, no, why is he up already?
He scrambled out of bed, rushed to put on his clothes over his head and shoving his arms through his long sleeves. His fingers yanked the door handle
He stood in attention, his hair a mess and his clothes all crumpled.
His dad’s eyes bore through him, lifeless and unfocused.
Zanka froze, his shoulders straightening automatically.
He swallowed, “Good morning father. “
His dads eyes ran over him, “Five thirty,” he said flatly. “And you’re just coming outta yer room”
“I-“
“I thought I told you to open the gym before I was awake. Or was that instruction too hard for you to follow?”
Zanka's hands curled at his sides.
“I'm sorry father. I won't repeat it, I'll go set it up now”
“You'll go set it up now,” his father repeated, mockingly. “Amazing, should I praise you for it? Get you a candy bar?”
His father stepped a little closer, close enough that Zanka could smell the liquor on his breath. His eyes narrowed.
“Your siblings would’ve done it before my eyes were open. Shame they arent here, now im left with the useless son,” his index finger stabbed Zanka's chest
Fuck you.
Silence ensued, only for a moment. “Sorry, father. “
His father scoffed.
“You're always sorry. When will you ever be good enough? Do I always have to keep making excuses for my pathetic son?”
Zanka could only stare forward, afraid to make even small movements.
“Go now. The gym ain't opening itself,” his dad huffed as he walked to the couch.
Zanka didn't waste another second. He wore his slippers and shot down the narrow staircase that led to the gym on the ground floor, his chest aching. He was used to this obviously, but that didn't stop it from hurting every time.
Didn't stop the words sticking somewhere in his ribs, heavy and sharp.
The glass door at the bottom was cold to the touch. Zanka pulled out the keys from his pocket and slid it into the lock, it clicked open.
The room was dim, barely illuminated by the rising sun and the familiar smell of mattresses and the room freshener they used after practices greeted him. He stepped in and flicked on the lights. One by one the lamps hummed to life casting a pale light across the room. Rows of equipment sat still, their shadows stretching across the floor. He rolled up the shutters
He started off by sweeping the bare floor and then picked up the mattresses that lay stacked up on the side and placed them down neatly, closely arranged.
He then unlocked the door that led to his dad’s personal room, where he usually held meetings or just relaxed in when the students were practicing their drills, and he gave it a sweep too, dusting off his items on his desk and shelf.
Outside the sun was beginning to come up, the sky slowly turning blue.
He turned to the door and flicked the ‘open’ sign outward
There wasn't much to do, but his dad wanted him to do it anyway. He stepped back and stood there for a second, satisfied with his work
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“Zanka. The new boy will be coming in two days. I trust you'll be able to pick him up and show him his room? Unless you need me to do that fer you?” his dad strolled in.
“No, father. I'll pick him up. “
His father didn't bother responding as he headed towards his study inside the gym as he waited for the other students to start coming in. There were a few other children around his age who came to do taekwondo. He was reluctantly friends with them, if anything they forced him to join their ranks. That’s what he convinced himself about.
“ZANKA! Hey, what's up?”
A girl with red hair tied up into a ponytail slung an arm around his shoulder, excitedly.
“Riyo,” Zanka sighed “It's too early for you to be this loud. “ He wiggled away from her grip, though he’d never let her know he was happy for her distraction.
His eyes flickered to where his dad was, even though he knew they couldn’t see each other.
“Yeah okay you bum,” Riyo said, grinning. “I got ya coffee the way you like it,” She handed over the cup she carried for him in a bag. Another one sat inside, probably for their other friend rudo.
“You didn't have to…”
“Rudo late again?,” she questioned, ignoring Zanka, a small smile tugging at her lips
“You know it,” Zanka replied “When has he ever been on time?”
“Fair enough,” she shrugged. “Here give him this when he comes. ” She shoved the other drink into Zanka’s arms, placed her bags down and headed to the mats to warm up as the other children slowly arrived.
Zanka usually led the warmups, then his dad started the training.
.
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“Alright. Feet apart.” Zanka said, standing at the front facing the others.
The students copied him.
“Stretch your neck, hold for five,” he said as he pulled his neck downwards in a stretch.
The front door creaked open
“four…five.”
“Sorry. Did I miss a lot?”
Rudo stood by the wall, slightly out of breath, clutching his bag.
“You’re late,” Zanka said flatly
“Hey you just started! I saw you doing neck stretches,” Rudo protested “im barely late”
“Youre always late,” Riyo chimed in as she went over and ruffled rudo's hair as she grabbed him by the neck.
“Owwiee”
“Stretch,” Zanka said, hiding his smile.
“Bossy,” Rudo muttered as he copied the movement anyway.
Zanka led the count, his voice steady, but his eyes never left the door to his father’s study. When the door finally swung open, the room went bone-chill silent.
His father didn’t say a word. He just walked to the center of the mats, his shadow stretching over Zanka.
"Sparring drills. Zanka, Rudo. Front and center," his father barked.
He locked eyes with Rudo before stepping into the center with him.
They squared off. Zanka could feel Rudo’s hesitation- Rudo didn't want to hurt him. “Come on,” Zanka whispered, not wanting his dad to catch it.
Zanka lunged. He swung his lead leg, but as he pivoted, his mind betrayed him. He saw his father shift a tad bit closer to him, and he reacted before his brain could process what he was doing. He flinched, pulling his leg back slightly, the kick never landing on Rudo. His balance wavered as he stumbled on the mats, landing on one knee as Rudo’s punch, he’d loaded met his upper chest. Pain flowered, not the most painful, but he definitely felt it.
“Shit- Zanka I-,” Rudo started
“Silence.”
“Get up,” Zanka’s father said, cold. Zanka pushed himself up to his feet and he felt everyone in the room staring at him and winced. “Who asked you to give up?”
“I didn't, father"
His father’s hand shot out, grabbing the front of Zanka’s shirt and yanking him forward.
“Don’t lie to me.”
Zanka’s breath caught, but he didn’t resist.
“You think this is a game?” his father continued, voice low. “You embarrass me in front of my own students and expect me to just ignore it?”
“No, im sorry”
His father let go of his shirt, now loose at the neck. “Again,” he said, stepping back.
Rudo pleaded through his eyes, looking like he wanted to disappear off the face of the Earth. Zanka met Riyo’s eyes briefly, her eyes showing no sign of shock, having witnessed scenes like this multiple times. His friends were well aware of the kind of man Zanka’s dad was and they’d repeatedly ask him if he was okay to no avail. He’d always say he was.
They circled each other. Rudo struck first- step and jab, but Zanka was faster. He defended, ducked low and swept a kick at Rudo’s feet, throwing him off balance for a fraction. Zanka took the opportunity and twirled into a roundhouse, his legs aiming for Rudo’s ribs. It landed, heavy and Rudo staggered backwards.
He regained composure quickly, but he was no match for the older. Rudo aimed a quick punch towards Zanka’s shoulder, but he caught it immediately and used the momentum to flip Rudo onto his back and pinned him to the mat.
His breaths came quickly, a strange, morbid satisfaction blooming in his chest at the win. For a moment he stayed there, the room filled with silence as they awaited Mr. Nijiku’s response.
His voice cut through,”Enough.”
Zanka quickly got off Rudo and held out a hand which the younger gladly accepted, standing up as he rubbed the back of his head.
“Well done both of you,” his dad said and Zanka felt warmth throughout his body. Praise from his dad was rare- so rare he didn’t know how to react. “Should’ve done this the first time, Zanka.”
“Now, pair up and do the same,” his dad said, turned towards the other students, and slipped towards his room. “I will be back to see your progress”
The room sprang back to life, the others having forgotten what they witnessed, and sounds of conversations filled Zanka’s ears as they chose their partners to spar with.
Rudo leaned closer to Zanka as they stepped aside. “Duuuudee, you almost broke my ribs,” he whined elbowing Zanka.
“Youll live.”
He saw Riyo walking over to them, with Rudo’s now cold coffee in her hand.
“Here,” she said, jabbing the sweet drink into Rudo’s arms “For you.”
“Woah what's this?,” he said, examining it excitedly. “Coffee? Yay!!”
Riyo let rudo get distracted and she asked Zanka, “You good?”
“Yeah.”
“What crawled up his ass and died today?”
“Oh yeah, Zanka’s dad a pee butt”
Zanka smirked, “Cut it out. Pair up and start sparring”
“Oh hell no. My ribs might be bruised, I can't do this anymore,” Rudo groaned, clutching his side dramatically. “The kick had malice behind it, I felt it in my soul”
Riyo only snorted, while Zanka didn’t bother with a response.
“Wow okay, you two are horrible friends,” rudo said as he stalked off to the side, drinking his sweet coffee.
“Mmkayy then Zanka, you're with me,” Riyo exclaimed, getting into position.
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.
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When the session ended and the students began to trickle out, Zanka stayed behind to clean up. Riyo and Rudo always end up helping him, even though he protests.
“See you at the station?,” Riyo asked, slinging her gym bag over her shoulder. She looked at him with a knowing gaze, nothing really got past her.
“Yeah. Got a lecture at ten.”
“Sweet. Don't be late, Mr.Enjin hates it,” she said before disappearing through the glass door, a trailing, groaning Rudo behind her.
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The next 48 hours or so were a haze. Zanka moved through his life like a ghost owned his body, although the feeling wasn’t foreign to him.
At college, he sat slumped in the middle benches, trying to focus on what the professors were saying. Their voices droned through the background, muffling his thoughts. His daydreaming was occasionally disturbed by his friends.
His benchmates were a guy called Follo and a girl, Eishia. They both were sweet to him. Eishia would often nudge his elbow to show him a funny post on her phone, and Follo would make him notes when he was late. They often accompanied him,Rudo and Riyo to lunch, including a few of Riyo and Rudo’s friends. He didn't really mind it. They talked about movies, about upcoming parties, about other things that mattered to them. Zanka couldn’t really relate anyways, his priorities lay in making his dad proud in taekwondo and his studies, although he always thought he was an average joe at both. He worked twice as hard as anyone else just to maintain his grades, mostly because failure was an outcome he couldn't afford to bring home.
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.
.
On the second day he decided to tidy up the guest room after all his classes were over.
He'd taken a shower after his long day and stared at the room, standing in grey sweats and a loose black tshirt.
His dad had always been having trainees over, so Zanka wasn't unfamiliar with tidying the other room . His dad was a good coach after all, and people around the country came over for training.
The trainees weren't always nice to be around. A few of them Zanka found extremely obnoxious, but he bit his tongue anyway, afraid to upset his dad. Over the years, Zanka had shared his walls with a rotating cast of boys.
He wondered what kind Jabber, his dad had said his name was, would be. But he didn't really raise his expectations too high, he’d learnt from his mistakes.
Zanka moved with quiet efficiency.
He stripped the bed and put the old bedsheets in the wash and laid out new linens, tucking the corners neatly.
He spent an hour organising the messy desk in the room, shoving random storybooks into a neat vertical line into the shelves. He cleaned the slightly dusty wardrobe, making space for the other to put his clothes in.
Every few minutes, his eyes would drift to his door, half expecting his dad to barge in and start critiquing him about the way his room was untidy. Zanka was so tired. Of everything. He didn't understand why he had to go through all of this, why he couldn’t just be happy one day without worrying about the next.
Seeking a moment of quiet, he retreated into his own room and sank into the chair at his desk. His hand moved almost on its own, pulling the drawer open just a crack. There it was- his blade. It was a small, unassuming thing. It looked too cold for the warmth he was wishing for. He stared at it, his fingers hovering over it for a bit. A fair share of the scars it imprinted laid on his thighs, hidden away from the world.
A sharp rattle of the window frame from a sudden gust of wind made him flinch. He slammed the drawer shut, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the small room. He leaned his forehead against the cool wood of the desk, his breath hitching in his throat. Not today. He couldn't leave the room a mess for the guest. He couldn't give his father one more reason to be disappointed.
Even in his darkest moments, the discipline was a cage he couldn't break out of.
That night, rain started. A small pattering on his window frame, bringing him slight peace.
He grabbed his phone and checked that he’d gotten a few texts from his friends and some notifications on his social media apps that his father didn't know he had.
Riyo: zanka, didcha finish cleaning the room? Tomorrow's the day right, the new kid’s comin over?
Rudo: what new kid
Riyo: good god
He ignored them for now, tiredness creeping through his bones, as he set an alarm for 5am.
Tomorrow is the day,
he had to go pick up Jabber.
Zanka lay in his own bed, his hands folded over his stomach, listening to the storm. He thought about his friends, wondered if they were asleep by now, or if they were out at one of those parties they talked about.
He squeezed his eyes shut. Five o'clock, he reminded himself. Don't be late.
He drifted into a shallow sleep, his thoughts fading into a quiet gray haze.