Chapter Text
Most people would have nightmares about the scene: blood seeping inelegantly out of the wound in the person’s chest, head cleanly severed from body, and an agonized scream cut short still echoing through the dark cavern of a warehouse in which they stood.
Riyo knew she would not lose sleep over such brutality. She would have no nightmares. She rarely dreamed as it was. It seemed that when the part of her that felt horror at violence had died it had taken her ability to even subconsciously hope with it. What were dreams to a realist after all? So, she could only stare curiously at Rudo when he asked, “Are you okay?” His face was pinched. He was shifting from foot-to-foot. He wouldn’t look her in the eye.
“Yea. Are you?” She laughed lightly.
Rudo’s head whipped up, red eyes bugging out. He sputtered for a moment in a way very reminiscent of Enjin. He then choked out, “You’re covered in blood. It’s on,” he petered off, looking away with a red face, “It’s on your mouth.”
At that Riyo registered the familiar metallic tang on her lips, “oh,” she pulled down her sleeve and wiped it across the bottom half of her face. The blood was tacky, not wanting to come off. Enough did though for her to repeat, “oh. That’s definitely more than I thought,” she spared an apathetic glance at the corpse by her feet. Head wounds certainly bled a lot. Her shoes were drenched. Lifting a foot came with the distinctive ripping-esque sound of stepping out of drying blood. Looking back at Rudo she found fear in his face. His eyes were twitching between her and the pool of blood, avoiding the corpse. Riyo forced a smile onto her face, “You’ve got a scrape on your face,” she poked his forehead, “Let’s get you checked out.”
“Hey!” He swatted her away, face scrunching in annoyance. Though he followed her quickly as she started towards where Zanka, Enjin, and Gris were gathered by the entrance to the decrepit building their mission had taken them to.
Rudo shuffled to Enjin’s side. He got close enough that the man nearly tripped over him, “Hey twerp. What the fuck,” Enjin’s arms and one leg raised comically as he teetered away from Rudo.
“Don’t call me that Turdface,” Rudo yelled back. Like father like son, they were off. Zanka jumping in to defend Enjin.
The trio pushed and cursed all the way to the jeep.
Watching the way all three glowered the same, yelled at the same pitch, even elbowed in the same fashion, Riyo wondered if she would be the same if she had their innocence. Or idiocy in Zanka and Enjin’s cases she mused.
A towel entered her field of vision. In his other hand Gris held a water bottle, “clean up before you get in the car,” his smile was gentle, “That can’t be comfortable.”
And it wasn’t, the mostly dried blood was beginning to tighten her skin. It itched. She took the offered supplies.
She stopped a little way away from the car to clean up. Her hair, loose from its usual updo stuck to her face from both blood and water. She flicked as much as she could over her shoulder. The second she bent over to splash more water on her face it all fell forward once more. Tucking some behind her ear she glanced around. Gris was closest. He’d retreated a respectful distance and was yelling over his shoulder at Enjin, but his attention was easy enough to grab.
“Gris,” Riyo said, pulling hair out of her mouth. He hummed, “Can you hold my hair for a sec?”
“Oh yeah,” he laughed, stepping over to pull her thick hair back, picking strands off her forehead in his typical gentle, paternal manner, “Do you want me to braid it for you?”
She gave him a side-eye over her shoulder. This time she hummed in acquiescence.
They worked in tandem; the silence was comforting in its routineness.
To then approach the jeep was disrupt the peace they’d established, “How come you asked him and not me?” Enjin whined, good naturedly. He hooked an arm around Gris’ neck and stole the Supporter’s hat. Placing his prize on his head Enjin proceeded to muss up the other man’s hair, all while giving Riyo his biggest pout.
“Because you always pull my hair,” she smiled. It was a real one, dragged out of her from pure affection, a warm feeling she couldn’t recall her birth family ever inspiring in her.
“I do not!” Enjin said, “I call-“
“Be quiet,” Gris said, groaning. He elbowed Enjin.
Enjin’s reply was just as loud as before. Their argument became background noise as Riyo made her way to her usual place in the trunk. Rudo was once again there to interrupt the routine of it all. He didn’t speak this time, just scrutinized her with a pained expression from where he sat in the backseat.
“You look like you’re going to shit yourself,” she said, snickering.
“Ha! Who’s the Turdface now, Turdface,” Zanka exclaimed, cackling in much the same deranged way Enjin did.
At the same time Gris scolded her, “Don’t instigate,” he’d ceded the driver’s seat to Enjin and was just buckling in. He rubbed his temples and muttered, “this is going to- Will you two quiet down,” he switched to yelling as Zanka and Rudo’s fight escalated, “Stop hitting each other. Next person who says ‘turdface’ is walking back to headquarters.”
The car was quiet by the time Riyo shut the trunk door.