Archive of Our Own ^omega

No Man’s Land is the kind of place filled with death and debris—lifeless, poisonous, and, most of the time, dangerously silent. The kind that provokes you to call out to someone in hopes of hearing something back to fill the deceiving quiet that spans who knows how many miles.

However, when trash beasts come alive, the vast sea of rubble becomes a violent war zone bursting with light and exploding metal scraps.

Today is no exception.

Team Akuta usually has no problem with taking care of these physics-defying creatures, but when the going gets tough, even the strongest team of Cleaners struggle.

They’re all spread around the mountains of rough, metal-filled terrain, busying themselves with a barrage of trash beasts that seemingly have no send to them. When one gets killed, another one rises up from the bottom of the heap to take its place—sometimes more than one, which gives them no choice but to go against several at the same time.

The problem lies not within their skill-set nor the strength and size of the beasts, but rather within the limitations of their human capabilities. They might all be highly-trained Givers but they also have a respiratory system that needs to breathe every once in a while.

“Where’s this shit coming from?!” Zanka’s voice echoes through the air, reaching for no one in particular, yet unsurprisingly, Enjin as yet to lose his usual conversationalist mood.

“We’ve seen worse!” he shouts back slamming his Umbreaker right in the middle of a trash beasts head. It crumbles easily, shaking the surrounding piles of rubble, the broken parts of the once-living creature raining down with sharp thuds on the ground.

From several feet away, Riyo grunts as she cuts the head off of another, using it as a leverage to jump and attack a different beast. “Are you sure about that, Enjin?!” she groans. She’s not usually one to complain, having enough stamina to singlehandedly take down multiple without breaking a sweat.

This mission, though, is testing not just her, but the rest of Team Akuta.

It’s made obvious by the big metal tail whipping towards Tomme and Follo, who have no other choice but to run seeing that it’s absolutely impossible for any one of the Cleaners to get to them fast enough.

There had been no one to watch over the Supporters due to the sheer amount of powerful trash beasts that’s been overwhelming them for longer than they can keep up with.

Luckily, right before the monstrous hunk of rubble manages to make contact, it explodes into a million pieces, making Tomme and Follo duck behind their arms to brace themselves for the oncoming storm of fragmented junk that would’ve caused its own set of physical damage.

The scraps, however, bounced off of an invisible force field that rippled upon impact mere inches away from the two, creating a resonant, booming noise while their surroundings warp for a moment, clearing up with the end of the pseudo-trash-storm.

You land in front of them, mask on your face and your headphones secured over your ears. The protective barrier disappears just as you approach them. “You guys alright?”

Before they could respond, the unmistakable sound of Enjin’s voice echoes through No Man’s Land. “You’re late!!!”

“You know I have a tight schedule,” you yell back, using your jinki to jump into the air, landing right on top of a trash beast. “Besides, I went here straight after my mission with Team Child!!”

As the monster tries to shake you off, you kneel down and hold on tight. The beast screeches, feeling the vibrations travel from your hand, increasingly getting louder the more you concentrated.

You can hear clanking and rattling as it shakes from the inside out, it’s stability getting compromised. After just a few seconds, it explodes into a thousand pieces—you’re second kill within ten minutes of arriving at the scene.

Over your shoulder, you see Riyo just as you land gracefully back on the ground. “Zanka?” you ask, and she points to where your boyfriend is, holding his Lovely Assistaff as he fights off a beast on his own.

You can’t stop the smile that grows on your lips and the red-haired Giver rolls her eyes. “Gross,” she mutters, but you know she meant for you to hear it. You only roll your eyes; of course, even in the middle of a fight, she still finds the time to judge you and your love life.

The rest of the trash beasts get cleared shortly after your arrival, as your vital instrument is powerful enough to withstand even the most exhaustive activities. Because your talents are good for both long and short ranged fights, you can take out several trash beasts in a matter of minutes.

Most Givers have to be very agile and physically combative because of the way their jinkis work, however, due to the nature of your headphones and the way you can use it to manipulate soundwaves, it doesn’t require you to move around as much as the others.

In No Man’s Land, where there’s an abundance of noise from trash beasts and the Cleaners, the more sound you can amplify and use against your opponents; as long as you never run out of it, you can fuel your instrument—and in the off chance you have to fight in complete silence, you can always make sound.

It’s not without cost, however, as soon after the intensive back-to-back missions, you’re energy has depleted to the point where you collapse on your hands and knees, completely out of breath. Your headphones might be a force to reckon with but it still required a large amount of control and concentration on your end.

Two consecutive missions were not the plan for this week. But when Guita and Dear asked you to come with them because they missed you, well, how could you say no to that?

Bro was nice enough to insist that you don’t have to come with due to your schedule at No Man’s Land with your team, but you simply could not fathom the pleading eyes of your two favourite Givers, even though Dear may have looked a little less enthused than Guita. You know he loves you. He’s just grumpy.

In the end, Bro appreciated the help. It must not be easy having to wrangle up to kids—once the fighting is done, they revert back to their unfocused, child-like selves as if they never fought beasts twenty times their size.

When you see a flash of blue in the corner of your eye, you straighten up and immediately dust yourself off, calling out excitedly. “Zanka!” You waste no time engulfing him in your arms when you practically throw yourself at him. “I missed you,” you mumble, snuggling into the crook of his neck, feeling all the tension leave your body when his arms snake around your waist.

Despite the chunky masks on your face, everything feels warm and comfortable.

One of his hands rests itself on the back of your head as he caresses your hair softly, squeezing you a little tighter for the briefest of moments as he hides his face in your tresses—god forbid anyone sees Zanka all soft for anyone, even if half his face is literally covered.

“I missed ya too, princess.” He pulls away, brushing off some dust you got on your face. “But ya look like shit.”

Though the mask covered it, he recognizes those eyes you make when you pout and he shushes you before you can argue otherwise. “I told you not to take back-to-back missions,” he grumbles, though his tone is gentle.

The pout on your face is immediate, but Zanka hushes you before you could argue otherwise.

A wave of exhaustion washes over you, and after several hours of constant fighting, the day finally takes is toll. Your eyes are now too heavy to keep open and instinctively, you lean your head against his chest.

The thumping of his heart is enough to lull you to sleep faster than your boyfriend can steady you in his arms.

Enjin clicks his tongue as Team Akuta gathers around, getting ready to head back. “I’d hate to break up your canoodling but if you stay there here too long, you two won’t be able to get a room other than the infirmary.”

When the snickering from his team members echo around him, Zanka’s cheeks turn a slight shade of pink, and he realizes he has to wake you up a little to offer a piggy back ride once they start walking; you sleepily agree but make no further movements.

It dawns on your boyfriend that you’re completely drained—too drained that you won’t be able to cling onto him during the journey to the car, so, he decides that he’s got enough energy to carry you in his arms until the low humming of the engine can give you better rest.

As you drifted off into a deeper sleep, several voices can be heard inside your head, overlapping each other in a cacophony of sound you couldn’t identify. Your hand leaves its gentle hold on Zanka’s collar and, with an annoyed scrunch of your nose, take off your headphones, leaving them hanging on your neck at a weird angle.

Your consciousness escapes you quickly as soon as the talking stops and a deep calmness wash over your body—all you can hear now are the muffled sounds of your teammates discussing whatever.

Before you’re completely out, you hear a soft mutter—

“You’re one badass princess, princess”

And then a pair of soft lips are on your temple.

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

The next few days went by uneventfully, with Enjin ordering a halt to any future missions for you after having to be carried back to HQ. Despite this, though, you watched them train, begrudgingly staying on the sidelines despite feeling perfectly fine.

You and Riyo just got back from getting some snacks while Zanka had been training Rudo for about an hour. It didn’t take long before you noticed that he started getting that crazy look in his eyes every time he trains the kid.

The Spherite, while a fast learner, is held back by his severe impatience. You can’t help but laugh at the thought that Enjin made the worst decision making Zanka train him, as he’s the complete opposite.

He’s known to be one of the hardest working Cleaners and possibly the most disciplined, but even his patience seems to run thin every time Rudo loses control of his temper.

Rudo gets triggered by everything; Zanka gets triggered by everything Rudo does.

As bad as you feel for their struggles, you do understand Enjin. It’s entertaining to see them butt heads. They’re both very skilled and would have made a great duo had their personalities been compatible at any level. Clearly they just need to learn a thing or two from each other, seeing as Zanka can get a little too uptight sometimes.

“You know, learning how Rudo thinks would help us out a whole lot.” Riyo stands beside you, watching the same shit show you are—she doesn’t even spare you a glance.

You sigh, leaning back on the wall behind you and crossing your arms. “You know I don’t do that. Not unless it’s necessary,” you said just as Zanka and Rudo strike each other with their vital instruments.

Your red-headed friend shrugs, finally looking at you with a smirk on her face right as Rudo gets bonked on the head by Lovely Assistaff. “I’d say it’s pretty needed now, don’t you think?” She points at your boyfriend who’s red with frustration—you can imagine smoke coming out of his ears at this point. “I think Zanka would benefit from it a lot,” she giggles.

“Oh, he absolutely would,” you laugh, gazing at the pair fondly. “But it’s a slippery slope. What’ll stop me from using Ayane to read people’s minds over and over again?” Your hand reaches for the headphones around your neck, gently tracing the soft padding.

“Absolutely nothing,” she quips. The mischief in her voice isn’t something she hides, either. “That’s kind of the point of your jinki.” Riyo huffs, leaning back as well, her gaze going back to the training grounds. She knows that this isn’t something to argue about. It’s a losing battle. “But I do think your restraint is very honourable.”

You can hear the smile in her voice that turns into full on laughter when Rudo decides to use another plunger against Zanka just to get on his nerves. There’s no helping the loud cackle that escape you, too, when they both start to run around with their arms flailing. Why does Rudo even have a plunger in his collection of junk?

Deciding to watch a little closer, you and Riyo make your way towards them, where Enjin stood by. You have an inkling that he may be responsible for a certain bathroom appliance added to the Spherite’s training trash pile.

Some part of you believes that maybe Enjin loves to mess with your boyfriend so he can loosen up a little—that, in your opinion, is valid. You would approach it differently, of course, if it were you.

When the blond man sees you approach, he hollers towards Zanka and whistles to get his attention—he gets no response, since his laser focus is practically impenetrable sometimes. Despite this, though, Enjin seems to get more enticed.

“Lover boy! Better step up now that your girlfriend’s watching,” he teases, waving his hands in the air and pointing at you in the most exaggerated way possible.

For only a second, Zanka’s eyes flicker towards you, while the overwhelmed, clearly agitated Rudo had just finished turning some scrap fan blades into multiple spinning dagger-sized weapons that he sends flying towards your boyfriend.

You knew that Zanka wouldn’t be able to respond in time so you decided to step in, putting your headphones on as you rush in front of him, your foot stomping on the ground just as Ayane starts to glow. The vibrations seem to shake the entire building, using the loud boom to create an invisible rippling wall in front of you, effectively stopping the blades just a few inches away from your face.

“Rudo!” you shout, your voice piercing the ears of everyone present. The temporary force field disappears and the blades clank onto the ground, your headphones losing their bright incandescence.

The thundering sound of your footfalls are difficult to miss when you approach the new member of your team. His eyes are still red and his hands are tightly balled into fists; he stares you down with gritted teeth. The white-haired boy doesn’t seem afraid at all, and if anything, he looks particularly aggressive, which tells you that he might have gotten carried away once again.  

He lifts his hand to do god knows what, but you don’t have the chance to find out since you quickly grab his wrist and send soundwaves down his arm. It shakes him awake, the deep bass thumping in his chest the way a loud speaker would, but tenfold.

His eyes lose their glow and he flinches at your grip.

“Stand down, Rudo,” you command. “You almost hurt Zanka. If you can’t control yourself here then you won’t survive out there, you little runt.”

The training grounds have been effectively silenced, but it’s Rudo who has an especially guilty look on his face, his shoulders going stiff. “I’m sorry…” he mumbles, not quite finding the confidence to speak any louder when you have yet to let him go.

You loosen your grip and drop you hand back to your side. “Don’t apologise to me, apologise to Zanka,” you scold. Everything about him tells you that he didn’t, and still doesn’t, mean any harm, but with how fast your heart is beating and the sound of blood rushing in your ears—it made you more cautious than what’s necessary.

This is Rudo; just Rudo.

But he almost hurt Zanka.

The white-haired boy looks sheepishly behind you, his eyes sometimes flicking to Riyo and Enjin shamefully. When his gaze is finally steady on his teacher, he mumbles quietly, but genuinely: “I’m s-sorry, Zanka…”

Enjin breaks the tension by clapping his hands once, taking big strides towards you and Rudo before swinging an arm around your shoulders—with the way he’s smiling, you can tell he means well, but you’re not quite sure if his silliness is what Zanka needs right now.

“Maybe it’s you who needs to apologise, Y/N.” He grins as he squeezes you momentarily, ruffling your hair with his other hand and pointing his thumb at your boyfriend, who’s still sitting on the ground, a frustrated look on his face. “I think lover boy over there got a bit distracted when he noticed ya,” he teases.

Enjin spins you both around, still tightly holding onto you as you now face the agitated Zanka. With a dramatic sigh, as if he’s been lovestruck, Enjin smirks at both of you. “That’s what you get with puppy love.”

The defeated boy on the floor doesn’t react, instead, he gets up with a huff, dusts himself off, and walks away without a single word.

“Hey! Zanka—” you elbow Enjin’s ribs before he can finish speaking, knowing he’s about to add more quips just to mess around.

You grab his wrist and get out of his hold. “You know how he gets, Enjin. You’re not helping,” you chide, smacking his shoulder. He dramatically flinches and gasps.

“You’d hit your boss?!” he retorts, both hands coming up to chest over his heart. “I’m heartbroken—”

He immediately stops his playfulness when you activate your jinki for a second, the glow enough for him to know you’re being serious, though you don’t actually mean for it to be a threat; just menacing enough to get the message across.

Your main worry is that Zanka might still hear—he feels terrible enough. About what, you’re not entirely sure, but you don’t want to make it worse. Before you leave to go find your boyfriend, though, you can’t help but let a small grin slip through your thin veil of annoyance towards Enjin, who seems relieved when he sees you’re not actually pissed.

The man is scared shitless of you sometimes despite being insanely strong in his own right, and of course, being several years older. There’s mutual respect between both of you—he never likes seeing you upset, especially if you’re the cause.

And, sure, he’ll never admit it, but sometimes he thinks that if you two are ever in a physical fight, you might just kick his ass.

Meanwhile, this entire time, Riyo seemed pretty content with standing on the sidelines and watching the show, though you do appreciate the reassuring look she sends you before you turn around and head inside.

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

It’s dinner time already and Zanka still hasn’t left his room. You never had the opportunity to speak with him right after what happened during training—his door was locked, and he didn’t answer when you knocked or called for him.

Figuring he needed some space to calm down and recuperate, you spent most of your time in the common area, talking with anyone who was there with you, but mostly spending your time playing with Guita and Dear.

You’ve been spending a lot of time with Team Child lately due to your ordered rest; Zanka was laser focused on training as usual, and you didn’t want to take him away from it since you know how important it is for him to see his own progress.

However, you’ve waited long enough, and you think that you’ve given him ample time to practice whatever new technique he’s been working on. You can excuse him being holed up in his room because he’s upset about how training went—for some reason—but you’re not about to let him skip dinner.

With a bowl of beef noodle soup in your hand, you let yourself into his room using the key he’d given you a while back. It’s not something you use often because you never needed to.

Sometimes you actually think he has some type of x-ray vision when he opens the door for you before you can even knock.

This time, though, he didn’t answer you at all after five minutes of calling out for him.

Once you get the door open, Zanka is in the process of sitting up, his feet planting themselves firmly on the floor with a soft thud. He’s not looking at you, his eyes steady on the floor with his elbows on his knees; a visible look of irritation on his face.

When you sit next to him on the bed, something you’ve done a thousand times before, you leave a little bit of space between you two, the bowl of beef noodle soup safely in your hands, getting a little too hot for your comfort.

But it’s tolerable when all of your attention is on him.

There’s a lot of tension in the room—one you can’t quite decipher. Most of it is coming from him. Whatever you could have done to get this kind of rigidity from him is beyond you.

It feels personal, like he’s upset at you specifically.

And it feels unnerving when most of the time, he seeks you out for comfort whenever something is distressing him, instead of pushing you out like he does with most of the others.

“You should eat,” you mumble, holding the bowl out to him. It’s not nearly enough to break the ice despite the increasing temperature on your hands.

Zanka scoffs, his head recoiling as if the mere thought of food disgusts him. “I’ll get my own food.”

Suddenly, the heat from the soup seems to singe your hands, but you only hold onto it tighter, lowering it onto your lap to give your burning skin a break. Your fingers dance along the rim of the bowl, thumbs fidgeting against the ceramic while you contemplate your next words.

You ignore the urge to scoot away from him. “Did I do something wrong?”

Despite not coming up with anything you could’ve done, you still brace yourself for the answer.

He shakes his head, shoulders slumping slightly as he lets out a tired huff. “No,” he replies—his gaze could burn through the floor if it isn’t for the exhausted haze that seems to dance in his eyes. “It’s my fault. I got distracted.”

Taken aback, you move closer to him, his sleeve barely brushing your arm as the soup sloshes around, miraculously staying inside its container. “Zanka, dear, Enjin was just kidding. You know that, right?”

Your voice was gentle, as gentle as it gets with Zanka, knowing how much he looks up to his mentor. Especially now that you know what’s causing this behaviour. Sometimes the blond goof takes it a bit too far, but this wasn’t something you expected would stick with him.

He still won’t look at you, even when he shakes his head dejectedly and you have to ball your hand into a fist as you try to resist brushing the fallen strands of his hair away from his face.

The silence in the room maintains its equilibrium, not a single sound bursting the tense bubble in the room.

You look down at the soup in your hands. “Do you blame me for distracting you?”

It’s the only conclusion you could come up with, with how he’s acting like you’d burn him if you get too close; he got distracted by you, and if there’s anything you know about Zanka, he’ll stay away from anything he thinks is holding him back or standing in the way of his goal of becoming stronger.

The heat from the bowl seems to get worse, the prickling sensation on your hands now extending to your thighs where the bottom of the bowl makes contact, through the fabric of your clothes, as the sting reaches your legs.

“Am I holding you back?” It’s a simple question, but it’s one that makes you feel like there’s a stone stuck in your throat, your voice sounding more distant and strained than it’s ever been around him.

There’s only silence, and you find yourself counting to three.

And at the third second, the heat becomes unbearable.

You stand abruptly, so fast that a few drops of hot soup lands on your wrists, making your hand shake despite their steady hold on the bowl.

Placing it on his desk, you internally plead of him not to wait until it gets cold—he deserves a hot meal after training for so long.

Before you leave his room, you turn to look at him one more time, seeing that he hasn’t moved much since you let yourself in. The weight around your neck is suddenly feeling heavier that it usually is—your fingers twitch at your sides, tempted to wear your headphones and find out what he’s actually thinking.

Just a week ago he was carrying you back to HQ after an exhausting back-to-back mission. Now he won’t even look at you.

When did it go wrong?

You’re so close to finding out but as you glance at the bowl of beef noodle soup on his desk, the palms of your hands start to tingle; this time, because of the absence of the warmth you cradled so carefully just a second ago.

Now is not the time to use your jinki—not now especially.

You trust Zanka. He’ll come to you when he’s ready. It would be a betrayal to suddenly start invading his privacy when he clearly needs it the most. Your feet move before you can stop them.

The cold metal door knob prickles your skin when you twist it. “Please eat, Zanka.”

The soup stays still, getting colder by the minute as the door shuts, barely making a sound.

The following days are about as cold as Zanka’s room that night.

Meal times got a little bit lonelier despite the full cafeteria most days—the other Cleaners noticed, of course, but they never brought it up aside from the occasional check-ins.

You try not to show the sorrow that follows you around, try to ignore the emptiness that you feel in your chest when Zanka exits the room right when you enter, coincidentally having something come up that he needs to handle.

It’s obvious your teammates wanted to ask, since it isn’t the usual for the pair of you not to be seen together at least once a day—but still, no one dared to ask, partially due to the fact that it’s none of their business, and because you have enough mental fortitude to smile through it all, believing that everything will be fine in due time.

It’s a frail mask. Solid enough not to crumble whenever Zanka heads straight to his room after missions or acts like you aren’t even there when he talks to your teammates, but fragile enough to tell you’re hiding behind friendly smiles and sweets shared between the Team Child and Rudo.

Speaking of Rudo, you can tell he feels guilty. He joins in whenever Dear and Guita plays whatever games are available in the common room. He makes more jokes in an attempt to get you to laugh a genuine laugh, gets into petty fights with Dear over candy, encourages Guita to talk about her favourite monsters—the other two enjoy it just as much as you do, and you’re happy to see them get along.

They’ve been your pick-me-ups aside from eating out with Enjin as you try to find new food places—hidden gems among popular restaurants—and learning new hairstyles with Riyo that you struggle with more than she does, so it turns mostly into her tying your hair however she wants. You’ve also been hanging out with Tamsy, Delmon, and Bro more.

Though you’ve always been close to most of the Cleaners, it’s nice to spend a little bit more time with them—and you’ll hold on to that silver lining until your knuckles turn white.

But sometimes, no matter how hard you hope that he’ll come back to you, your trust seems to waver, and you’re caught in a moment of weakness when you find a zoned out Zanka staring at a bowl of beef noodle soup while he’s surrounded by your friends at the cafeteria.

He hasn’t noticed you yet, neither have the other.

It’s not as crowded at it usually is, so, with shaking hands, you lift your headphones up to your ears as you make sure their view of you is obstructed by the door. Your jinki glows and your heart is pounding so much so that you doubt you’d hear anything through the ear-aching thumps.

“I can’t avoid her forever. If I leave her, I won’t be distracted anymore.”

Ayane’s glow disappears as quickly as the tears form in your eyes.

You’ve lost your appetite.

You walk away from the cafeteria with your chest feeling empty, and instead of the fluttering in your chest that he used to bring you, there’s a burning in your stomach as bile threatens to crawl up your throat before you can even make it to your room.

The sob that almost escapes you is muffled by your hand—you don’t want anyone to ask questions. If they do, it’ll egg Zanka on to do what he feels like is right for him, and you’ll never know the real reason why everything suddenly went to shit.

He’ll come to you when he comes to you.

The least he can do for you now is tell you why without having to beg him to.

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

It’s a month into receiving the cold shoulder from Zanka when you overhear his conversation with Semiu—there’s been another Spherite, kidnapped this time, by a trash beast. A merchant called it in and he’s supposed to lead a team of Supporters, where the only other Giver is Rudo.

Fuck no, you think.

You’re well aware that they’re both reliable Cleaners, and the Supporters are more than capable of helping, but there’s a heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach. Just hearing the report—there’s obviously something wrong, which Zanka might have caught had he not been so inside his head recently.

Why would a trash beast kidnap someone?

And aside from that, there’s the obvious possibility of your boyfriend and the only other Spherite in the land to butt heads to the point of sabotaging the mission. Any mission should never be affected by personal feelings in an ideal world—and yes, you might be a little hypocritical here—so telling the two most unpredictably incompatible duo to answer the shadiest report you’ve ever heard is plain moronic.

When you approach them, you try to seme as calm as possible, hiding the anxiety that lingers in your mind at the thought of Zanka being the only experienced Giver on a mission you find so suspicious.

“Hey, Semiu,” you call out, waving as you lean both of your hands on her desk. “I’ll come with. I’ve been—”

She holds a hand up to you before she even turns to face you. “Enjin says you’re not allowed to go.”

You’re left speechless for a moment as you let the information sink in. Of course Enjin wouldn’t let you go. Despite being the next best Cleaner to. Your vital instrument combined with your field experience makes you an invaluable asset who should be deployed in suspicious missions—you can protect them and yourself, you know it.

When you try to reason with her, it’s Zanka who interrupts you this time.

“Tch.” His arms are crossed and he’s scowling at you, and suddenly the few feet of distance between you both feels like miles. “If Enjin thinks I can lead this mission, then I can. I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Zanka!” you shout, feeling immediate regret at raising your voice. It hurts to know that this is how he thinks of you—someone who doesn’t trust him, someone who thinks he’s not capable enough to be on his own. “You know that’s not why I want to go. There’s something wrong about this—”

“So what?” he interjects, taking a step closer as if to challenge you. “I can handle it.”

There’s a finality in his voice that’s amplified by the fact that this is the first time in a month that he’s actually able to look you in the eyes for more than a second. This seems to dawn on everybody as well; they’re all quiet, staring like they’re waiting for something to happen—if the ticking time bomb that is the tension between you and Zanka is about to come to its precipice.

“I know you can, but—”

“But what, Y/N? Do you—”

“Can you stop interrupting me, you asshole?!”

Semiu clears her throat before you and Zanka start to say anything you might regret. She turns her chair completely in your direction. “Enjin wants you to rest,” she says sternly, but there’s kindness in her eyes, almost like she doesn’t want to be the one to tell you. “You’re one of our best and you’re overworked. You can’t go on every mission.” Her voice gets softer in the end and she looks at you with more warmth than you can see in you boyfriend.  

Zanka turns from angry to smug, and he doesn’t even say goodbye when he leaves with his team, walking right through the doors without so much as a wave.

You groan in frustration and defeat as you slump down on the corner of Semiu’s desk. Despite the ugly, public fight you just had, your eyes can’t help but linger at the door, watching it swing shut and obstruct your view of Zanka.

“I agree with Enjin,” Semiu mutters, her chair squeaking as she turns around to face the wall behind her, looking at her nails idly. “It’d be a shame if you manage to sneak away.”

And she doesn’t need to tell you twice.

Without a second thought, you’re immediately out the door, lucky enough to spot them in the distance right away. They haven’t gotten far. You can’t get close, anyway, because you don’t want any of them getting an inkling that someone’s following, or else you’ll be a distraction to Zanka for real this time—and maybe the rest of his team if you end up fighting again.

The journey to the caller’s location is fairly peaceful. You don’t even see Zanka and Rudo argue as much as you expected them to, but there’s still that voice at thebakc of your head, almost screaming at you to force them to turn back around.  

It’s definitely an unconventional call, and there’s a spark of irritation you feel in your chest when you think about how Cleaners were sent to answer it without questioning how or why a trash beast would even kidnap anyone, let alone a Spherite.

Rudo is the only one you’ve ever seen alive—he’s basically a miracle; a glitch that you’re now still trying to remedy since his presence ruffled a lot of feathers. That’s not even mentioning the fact that he wants to go back up to the Sphere.

What are the chances that another Spherite lived through the fall?

Your train of angry thoughts are interrupted when the group finally gets to speak to the vendor. You hide behind the ruins of some building when you bring your jinki to life, the glow hidden just enough to be out of view, but you’re still cautious that they might be able to see it from afar.

The headphones work well for trying to hear their conversation, and as much as you hate to do it, this is one of those times you deem it necessary to read someone’s thoughts. The lady they’re talking to sounds off—you’re a Giver whose powers revolve around sound, you’re fucked if you can’t tell when someone’s voice sounds wrong.

It feels wrong as well, it spurs the feeling of uncanny valley within you, like she’s mimicking a human rather than being one.

And when you hear nothing, no thoughts, nausea begins to flood your head and bile starts creeping up your throat, trailing a burning feeling the higher it rose.

She’s not human.

It’s a trap.

By the time you hear the crumbling floor of the building they went in, you knew you had been too late. You’d lost visibility the moment they entered the building and you internally kick yourself when you realize you should’ve known better—what trash beast behaves so intelligently that not only does it kidnap someone, but also has the capacity to hide itself and its victim to avoid getting caught?

There’s no second guessing; you run and jump down the basement with them, having the forethought to cling to a low-hanging metal rod sticking out from the concrete. You brace yourself against the broken crumbling floor so you’re hanging just above the group of your confused teammates, hoping that you don’t cast too obvious of a shadow.

It’s both fortunate and unfortunate when you hear Gris in the middle of explaining who the Raiders are to Rudo. If it isn’t for those purple lamps, Zanka would have surely seen you by now.

However, you can feel your heart beat faster at the thought of Rudo and Zanka fighting alone—especially when Gris sends everyone away to find an exit.

The supporters aren’t amateurs. They all know what they’re doing.

But Givers are already dangerous on their own, what more hostile ones? Ones with a clear objective, which is to get the boy standing right in front of them. Right next to your stupid, hard-headed boyfriend, no less.

The more logical part of your brain, though, tells you that this is exactly the moment Zanka has been looking for. He can use this to prove himself.

And it hits you that it may be why he was so adamant on going to this mission as the only experienced Cleaner. Especially without you.

You have no doubt that he can handle this. In the off chance that he can’t, then you’re here to back him up. To hell with spectating.

At the end of the day he can protect himself, but Rudo and the Supporters against even one Raider can mean that someone gets hurt. If it gets to that point, you don’t even care what Zanka thinks—you wouldn’t forgive yourself.

You wait until you hear the pattering feet of the rest of the group run to find an exit before you jump down as quietly as possible, opposite to Zanka and the Raiders, shifting yourself just as you land so you can roll forward silently into the shadows where you begin to use the pillars to keep you out of sight.

Thankfully, Ayane absorbs most of the sounds that you make on your way down, limiting the noise of your movements to only yourself.

You look at Zanka one more time, mentally wishing—begging—him to be safe before you put your entire focus on the surrounding area and make sure that there aren’t any other Raiders planning an ambush.

Thankfully, despite the long way you had to run, you see the glowing green exit sign leading to what seems to be a stairwell without encountering anyone else.

You only step out of the shadows when Gris says he’ll check on Zanka while everyone heads out. The sinking feeling in your stomach still hasn’t gone away. The direction that you saw the Raiders in has become eerily quiet, and if they’ve truly been defeated this quickly, then either they’re too weak to handle one opponent or they manage to incapacitate Zanka in such a short amount of time.

Even if it’s the former, you’re inclined to believe that it’s just too easy. Those bastard bandits with overgrown egos won’t settle for such a lousy fight without something else up their sleeves.

“No, Gris,” you said, letting your footsteps finally be heard as they echo along with your voice.

Everyone seems to flinch due to the high-adrenaline situation, but they immediately relax when their eyes all land on you.

Rudo seems especially surprised that you ended up following them here, but you hold a hand up before he can say speak. “I’ll check on Zanka. I have a bad feeling about all this—it’s too dangerous for you to stay down here.”

You walk closer to them and lay a comforting hand on Rudo’s shoulder, giving him a soft chuckle and a tired smile. “Everyone knows I go where Zanka goes, unless I physically can’t,” you explain, ruffling his hair before moving to stand next to Gris.

You pat his arm before gesturing to the exit. “Go. You can protect them on the way up, but I can handle the rest down h—”

Footsteps are heard from the darkness of where you were once running, and everyone seems to relax at the notion that it must be Zanka.

However, you can feel the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

It’s all wrong. The sound, the steps, the cadence—it’s not him.

Ayane glows bright as you prepare yourself, walking protectively in front of the group and waiting for the enemy to step into the light. Despite not having said a word, the tension builds, especially when everyone else seems to realize that you manage to figure out it’s a Raider before they could even be seen.

Finally, you can see the man approaching you.

He has thick dreadlocks, purple clothes, and piercing hot pink eyes which are pointed towards Rudo, completely ignoring your presence when he begins to mumble the kid’s description as if he’s ticking off a checklist.

And before you know it, he jumps incredibly fast onto the wall on top of the exit, his hands and feet digging into the concrete like some kind of human spider before destroying the wall entirely.

Debris is launched towards all of you but you move quick, managing to create a sound barrier that’s solid enough to keep everyone safe from the falling rocks and powder that floats through the air.

You’re knocked off of your feet, having been caught off-guard. The force of the collision between your powers and the exploding wall was enough to throw you backwards, and you land on your back with a pained grunt.

As the Raider talks, he comes too close to your friends, making your fists clench against the ground.

You can’t bring yourself to move. With your abilities, you’re confident you can protect them from this far away, and so far, the stranger doesn’t seem to care about your presence at all.

But any movement from you might alert him. He already seems high as fuck from what you can tell—the last thing you want is for him to feel like starting a fight more than he already has.

You thank your lucky stars that Rudo has yet to lose his cool and start trying to beat up this guy. It’s good to have time to plan while the Raider runs his mouth.

Despite the tense situation, though, you can’t help but let out a relieved sigh when he says that Zanka is alive, but the tension comes back tenfold when you hear the word venom.

It happens quickly. One second he was just talking and swinging Rudo’s mask around, then the next a pink glow comes from the palm of his hand and huge metal claws erupt from it.

His vital instrument, you think.

You, Gris, and Follo are quick to defend the kid from the Raider, but you’re too far. The two supporters quickly get throw away by the stranger’s kicks after easily ducking away from any possible hits.

Jumping over Rudo with your arms wide open, you use both your hands to create a bubble of soundwaves around Follo and Gris to help with a softer landing. With an anguished cry, you deliver a hard kick on the enemy’s stomach right before you hit the ground.

You crash onto the floor with a thud, feeling your body get scratched and bruised. The Raider yelps in pain, too, you kick having been hard enough to make him cough out blood.

The smugness you feel disappears completely when you see that it only makes him smile.

This crazy son of a bitch.

He laughs manically, his glowing pink eyes staring you down as he gets up on his feet—you follow suit, both you and him on a stalemate as you recover.

From what you can see, though, you have an inkling that you’re the only one who really needs to catch your breath. He’s studying you—not resting, but trying to anticipate the way you’ll fight him.

The laughing starts slow, deep and menacing, but it crescendos into loud and hysterical, so much so that he doubles over and has to clutch his stomach tightly. “I like you, princess,” he pants in between his frenzied shrieks. “Hit me ag—”

He gets cut off when you launch yourself towards him using your jinki, reaching him in half a second before you take his arm and you kick his foot forward, using his imbalance to throw him over your shoulder, high above your head then smash him onto the cement.

You imbue your attack with soundwaves and vibrations so that the force in which he hits the ground is so strong that there’s a human-shaped hole in the ground about a foot deep. He seems disoriented—not just from whatever injury he may have sustained, but from how fast it all happened.

He’s a formidable opponent, you can tell, despite how you’ve only just met him. He’s quick on his feet, agile, but nothing you can’t keep up with.

Ayane uses sound by absorbing noise around you; even a small pebble hitting the floor is enough for your headphones to soak up and amplify. Luckily for you, this guy is talkative—his laughter and crazed monologues only serve as more fuel and energy.

He’ll be a pain in the ass to fight, especially when he regains his composure, but if you can keep your focus, you think you can out-last him. Your vital instrument specializes in endurance due to the way you can use any sound to your advantage.

Not even someone as skilled as him can outrun the speed and power of sound.  

“Man, that’s hot—” he grunts, slowly sitting up. “If the boss isn’t waiting, I’d love to push you to your limits.”

The smirk on his lips is something you so desperately want to wipe off his face. He’s not just a formidable fighter; he’s also a fucking creep.

His eyes are deeply unstable; never have you met anyone who’s sadistic and masochistic to this degree. There’s no winning with him, you think. Everything that can and will happen, as long as someone is getting hurt, even if it’s him, will be to his enjoyment.

“Just give up now and make it easier for the both of us,” you say, breathing heavily as you look down at him. It doesn’t matter how weak you sound right now, there’s clearly more to those nasty claws, and you don’t want to come to a point where both of you are depressingly injured and he’s the only one enjoying himself.

Enjin and his no-kill rule can be a pain in the ass sometimes, too. It’d be easier to fight him if you’re actually allowed to kill him. Murder is usually below you—at least not until someone goes out of their way to put venom into your boyfriend’s bloodstream.

A frenzied snarl grows on his face and he uses his long sleeves to wipe at the blood that’s started to run down his nose. “But I like it hard,” he drawls, and in the blink of an eyes, he front-flips and kicks you away towards a pillar, which crumbles against the force and half-buries you under rubble.

Okay, maybe you underestimated him and his speed. Your bad for letting your guard down, you guess.

Everything around you spins for a few moments, but you know you don’t have time, so you start pushing and kicking big pieces of cement off of you until you’ve done enough to be able to sit up.

A wave of nausea hits you at the sudden motion but you ignore it and stumble to your feet, just in time to see Gris standing in front of Rudo defensively as the other Supporters shoot you worried glances.

Unfortunately, your view is from behind, which means you don’t see when it happens.

And you would’ve never known had it not for the attacker saying that Gris might already be dead.

Then his claws push right through Gris, exposing the shiny, blood-stained metal to you and Rudo.

Red is all you see.

In a flash of movement, you’re right in front of your assailant, gripping onto where his claws meet his gloves. There’s a second where he seems pleasantly surprised by your sudden appearance and your eyes meet in a battle of crazed-stares.

With as much strength and focus as you can muster, you pull the claws in one swift movement, avoiding damaging Gris’ body even further, before putting all of your energy into one attack directed towards his vital instrument.

A sound wave so precise and controlled that you manage to shatter his claws.

For once he’s actually taken aback, and a flurry of emotions can be seen on his face until he lands on one that almost looks horrifically impressed. He’s absolutely stunned for a second.

Ayane is a powerful vital instrument, that’s for sure, but you’ve never broken another vital instrument before; you almost feel bad, knowing that each jinki holds a special meaning.

However, you only broke the transformed version of his instrument, which means he can regrow his claws as fast as they had been shattered.

You’re banking on the fact that if you struggle to use more than one of your powerful abilities at the same time due to the amount of energy you have to exert, then you can assume that this guy is the same way.

You wish you can read what’s going on in that brain of his, but it would overwhelm you, which won’t help seeing as you can already feel your legs start to shake after the immense power it took to break the claws.

Quickly, you crawl towards Gris, ripping parts of his jacket to stuff it into the wound on his front. You ask the other supporters who are quick to stay by their teammate’s side to help lift him up and you stuff pieces of fabric onto the wound at the back.

Though you make short work of it, the Raider seems to have left you alone for reasons you can’t yet decipher, but you’ll take any time you can get if it means saving a beloved team member.

When Follo assures you that they have Gris covered, you turn back to the Raider who’s crouched down a few feet away, observing his shattered claws before looking you dead in the eyes.

He smirks at you, his hand emanating bright pink light as he grows back his instrument. For most of the battle so far, he’s look bored, maybe mildly entertained; occasionally impressed.

This time, though, he looked ecstatic. “The name’s Jabber. Whoever you are, try not to die any time soon.”

That’s all the warning you get before he lunges at you with full speed.

But just as fast as he moved to attack, suddenly, he stops, eyes focusing just behind you.

That’s when you notice that there’s wind billowing all around, making crushed cement fill the air, itching the back of your throat.

It’s Rudo, holding onto Gris’ necklace, his own vital instrument glowing a deep red as a huge version of the pendant tower behind him, almost wrapping around his body. His eyes are full of the same rage you had felt earlier, but within his irises lay pain and desperation, especially when they flicker towards the bleeding Supporter on the floor.

You fear how much control he actually has of it.

Jabber seems entirely entranced and starts to interrogate the kid, and it isn’t until he mentions that he likes strong fighters that you start to understand why he took so much pleasure in going against you.

He didn’t expect you to put up such a strong fight, which explains why he looked impressed, and why he kept going with renewed vigor every time you hit a little harder. How do you even defeat someone who’ll only get pleasure from getting beat up by a good opponent?

Enjins no-kill rule is really getting on your nerves.

Rudo seems to have him distracted—entertained, even. The Raider has completely lost interest in you. It’s to your advantage, though, and as much as you’d like to help, you stick to caring for Gris’ wound, trying with all your might to stop the blood pooling around him.

There are thundering cracks and crashes around you, the cloud of debris preventing you from seeing anything—at this point you’ve done all that you can but the bleeding Supporter is still not out of the woods.

Even when he starts talking, it’s muffled by your tunnel vision, and it’s not until Gris’ words starts to slur a little bit more that you’re snapped out of your quiet hysteria and you put your hands over the fabric covering his wound, pressing down hard.

You’ve been applying pressure intermittently, in between checking the make-shift bandages, but you haven’t used Ayane just yet.

Your breathing is labored and your mind is reeling from the chaos around you. Rudo’s fighting some nut job alone, Gris is bleeding, Zanka is nowhere to be found—supposedly injured—and the rest are stuck in the basement just waiting to see if anyone else gets hurt.

You force yourself to focus anyway. If you aren’t in tune with the sounds around you then your jinki might as well be useless.

The first thing you hear is Rudo explaining just how his vital instrument works—specifically, how he imagines the gigantic pendant.

Your blood boils just enough to tear your attention off of Gris and you whip your head to Rudo’s direction, your weight still mostly on the wound.

“RUDO YOU SHITHEAD,” you growl, and you can see the boy stiffen and send you a terrified look before putting his focus back on his opponent. “DON’T FUCKING EXPLAIN IT TO HIM?!”

A groan from the man below you pulls you back to reality and you groan in annoyance when you have to ignore the idiot that is Rudo at the moment. “Shit,” you curse under your breath, finally getting to work on sending deep vibrations through the fabric and into the wound.

It’d take a long time for it to do anything of significance, but there’s nothing else you can do but keep going until Rudo finds a way to incapacitate the maniac.

“wh-what are you doing, Y/N?” Follo asks, staring curiously at your glowing hands.

“Low-frequency vibrations encourage cellular regeneration,” you answer, your focus unwavering and your gaze remaining on the wound. It’s not easy by any means. The vibrations have to be consistent and remain at a specific frewuency for it to work; even then, it’s not going to be quick. You can manipulate sound but not biology. “It’s not going to do much of anything for something this severe, but I have to try.”

You spare Follo a glance and he seems surprisingly captivated despite the situation at hand. He’s an aspiring Giver, after all, and there aren’t a lot who can use their abilities for healing.

Hell, you don’t even consider yourself to be one of them with how slow it’s going, but your concept of time has long left you—the only thing holding your attention is Gris’ ragged breathing and Follo’s words of encouragement towards you both.

When you hear maniacal laughter behind you, you brush it off. Jabber has done more laughing than attacking at this point that you’ve learned to block it out. However, you’re forced to pay attention when a strong grip encases your wrist. Gris has somehow managed to gather enough strength to get your attention, and you take it as a good sign.

His eyes are steady on yours and clearer than they have been since he got stabbed. “R-Rudo…” he rasps. “He’s…in trouble…” A sudden deep cough interrupts him but his grip only tightens. You can practically feel him pleading with you.  

You allow yourself to stop for a moment and look at what’s happening—Jabber had stabbed himself, now in a worse state then he was earlier because of—if you heard him correctly—some neurotoxin.

When you look back at Gris, he’s still looking at you with desperate eyes, and you growl in frustration. Stupid Gris and his stupid fatherly ways.

“Follo,” you breathe out, assessing the wound. “The bleeding’s slowed down a little, but you’ll have to keep putting pressure on it.”

He doesn’t say anything but he nods at you, immediately replacing your hands on Gris’ stomach, and you stand up to chase after Rudo who’s ran away from your group.

To your horror, you catch up to them just in time to see Jabber, basically breaking his back in a weird possessed-like pose, and it stuns you long enough that he manages to get up and charges after Rudo with a scream you’d expect is enough to break his vocal cords.

The first metallic sound that comes from his, fortunately unsuccessful, swipe at Rudo snaps you out of it and you run, faster than you thought you even could as you watch the sharp claws get dangerously close, the shiny silver creating lightning-like streaks and loud clangs when it cuts through the air.

Right before Rudo gets hit, your body slam into Jabber at full speed, knocking both of you several feet away. Mid-air, you let go of your enemy, fearing that you might get nicked once you hit the ground.

The tumble isn’t merciful—your body hits the ground roughly, not having enough time to prepare for the fall, but you plant your feet anyway and you ignore the stinging that covers your entire body.

Jabber instantly charges after you just as you manage to compose yourself.

You barely dodge his swings and you make a run for it, in the same direction where Rudo is, before you jump up towards a pillar, catching Jabber off guard. He’s not quick or mentally sound enough to make the speedy change in direction and he can’t slow himself down fast enough before you’re leaping off the wall and bashing the side of his head in with your fist.

He stumbles back before he’s coming at you again, both his claws directed at your face—you duck out of the way, sliding between his feet and tripping him in the process.

Jabber face-plants on the ground and you take that opportunity to use Ayane and throw your hands in front of you, sending ear-piercing sound waves towards him, managing to crack his claws. You keep going, the amount of energy strong enough that it’s repelling you away from him, your shoes dragging on the floor as you slowly get pushed backwards.

You’re a second away from breaking those metal abominations; legs are shaking from the amount of effort it takes to go against your jinki’s powerful force and your arms start to tremble. Sweat drips from your forehead—you almost forget to breath due to the amount of focus you have to put into making Jabber immobile.

But it’s all worth it when you see more cracks stain those shiny claws—

“Zanka!”

Rudo’s voice slices through the tension, and your heart sinks when you realize your attention has wavered.

You get thrown back by the uncontrolled sound waves that explode in the air, the back of your head hitting the ground; it’s hard enough that your vision goes black for a moment, and the second it’s back, the first thing you see is Jabber flying through the air, his crazed eyes are on you.

There’s barely any time to flinch before the tips of his claws are mere centimeters away from your face.

A thwipping sound is heard and Jabber gets thrown far away from you—Lovely Assisstaff pinning him to the floor. Finally, he seems like he’s incapacitated for now, but you know it won’t last long.

Though your vision spins, you still try to get up, but you fall back down and you see a steady trickle of blood flow down onto the floor.

“Hey! I don’t know why your stubborn ass is here but stay down! You’re bleeding for fuck’s sake!”

You sigh in relief when you hear Zanka’s voice, and although he’s scolding you, it’s enough to make you lay back down and rest, even for just a moment. You’ve missed him scold you.

Him and Rudo seem to be forming a plan but they’re too far away, and the ringing in your ears is too loud.

You’re aware that you’re pretty much in between Jabber and the two of them, and you’ll be the first one that he’ll set his eyes on. If you don’t get up now, you’re likely to die, or get gravely injured like Gris.

Though you’re sure that the beating you’ll receive won’t be as simple—Gris was stabbed by a sober masochistic maniac, and you’re against someone who’ll behead you with a single swipe and not a second thought.

Against Zanka’s orders, you flip onto your stomach when you saw Jabber stir, the nausea hitting you like a tidal wave. Your arms feel like jelly as you lift yourself up enough and look up at your lovely boyfriend talking to Rudo.

A faint smile makes its way onto your lips, your feet moving enough that you can sort of crawl forward, but it’s not without extreme effort. Suddenly there’s a dripping sound below you, and you can see droplets of blood falling onto the floor in front of your face.

You feel liquid on your lips and you realize that your nose is bleeding—quite significantly. An exhausted chuckle escapes your lips. It’s only hitting you now how injured you really are.

There’s blood everywhere below you and you’re surprised that, combined with the injury to your head, you’re still conscious.

Still, you keep crawling forward, no matter how slow, the blood getting dragged in a gruesome show of strength and possibly, if you ask Zanka, stupidity.  You have to make it to him. It feels like you haven’t seen him in forever and all you can think about is how nice it would be to hug him.

“Shit,” someone curses—you can’t tell who, but it sounds strained. “I said stay down, Y/N.”

There’s no bite to the words but you can tell it’s Zanka now. You can always tell; it’s hard not to when he says your name.

You’re being dragged forward, and when you’re flipped onto your back, you can see someone with white hair hover over you.

Rudo managed to pull you back towards them; you can see Zanka with his arm around his torso, using the pillar you’re all huddled close to for support. He’s clearly hurt, and you really want to help him and kiss his pains way, even as a scream rips through you when Rudo sits you up against the sturdy cement.

“Y/N,” your boyfriend calls almost sweetly. “Don’t ya move a muscle, we’re—”

A blood-thirsty scream rips through the silence and your own mixes with it when you’re roughly pulled away, once against violently dragged against the floor.

This time it’s Zanka who’s hovering, his expression riddled with worry. His hand is cradling the back of your head and he sets it down as gently as possible before jumping to hit Rudo with his vital instrument.

You feel the pain and lightheadedness wash over your body. It feels like you’re floating at some points, usually at the same time your vision starts to get blurry. There’s a series of crashes, grunts, thumps, and cracks that fill the space around you.

The vagueness of everything makes you realise that you’re losing consciousness, and surprisingly, it kickstarts Ayane.

The vital instrument absorbs enough sound energy to ground you; the vibrations enough to wake you up. You’re happy that somehow, you were still in the right mind to use your headphones to snap you awake—or maybe it’s just Ayane saving your ass; sometimes you think she has her own mind.

Groaning, you sit yourself up, and pain shoots from your head to your back—yet you power through, using Ayane’s vibrations to dull the pain. Your body feels like it’s filled with cotton at this point and you can imagine ants crawling along your skin, but it’s better than the agony your injuries bring.

The sight that greets you is a gruesome one.

Rudo’s down, you can see the tiniest scratch on his lower back, and Zanka is laying on his stomach as Jabber is squatting in front of him.

A terrified scream escapes from your lips as your boyfriend gets stabbed, his entire body stiffening up and trembling from the toxins.

“Oh!” Jabber turns to you, a playful smirk on his lips.

You can tell he’s tired despite his energy—if the blood covering him isn’t enough of an indicator, then the fact that he’s not even moving to hurt you gives it all away; he doesn’t want to fight anymore because he can’t.

He waves at you and grins. “Ms. Supersoldier is awake! Do you want some too?” His claws move side to side as he points it at you.

Slowly but surely, you stand up, your entire body glowing from how you’ve activated Ayane to be used throughout all of your body. You’ve had enough of this guy. Through the pain you grit your teeth, and through the anger your fists clench at your sides.

If looks could kill, Jabber would still be alive—you’d skin him to death before you even get close to granting him the freedom of death. And for once, you think you see a flicker of fear in his eyes, and it’s gone just as fast, replaced by his sadistic chuckles.

Before you know it he’s sprinting to Rudo, throwing him over his shoulder and booking it away from you. “Later, Ms. Supersoldier!”

Fine, you think. You can grant him a few seconds of grace.

Quickly, you hobble your way to Zanka and kneel beside him. He opens his mouth to say something but you cut him off. “I can’t do anything about the toxin but I don’t think he wants to kill you—he wants to fight; he just can’t right now.”

Zanka’s voice his stiff and his jaw is so tense you think he might crush his own teeth. You take it upon yourself to gently massage the side of his jaw. “Y-you’re—”

He stops talking when you place your hand softly on his cheek and you plant the smallest of kisses on his hair.

“I’m bleeding, I know,” you chuckle. “But if that Jabber bitch can go all out like that while he’s injured like a motherfucker, ya better believe I can too.”

You run your fingers through his hair once before you stand up again. “Meet me up there, honey. I’ll be quick, I promise.” With as much mischief you can muster, you wink at him and blow him a kiss.

He doesn’t have enough time before you’re running back to the exit.

-

Running with a mostly-broken body hurts.

It feels like your ankles will break with every step, but when your body is constantly filled with deep thumping that make your skin crawl, it feels somehow better, but also worse.

You barely even notice your movements as your headphones numb any and all feeling in your body, but you use it to your advantage when you leap through the air to catch up with Jabber.

As you’re flying, your entire body glows brighter with light and energy, pretty much maxing out Ayane’s capabilities. At this moment you’re not quite moving your body; you’re using sound energy to move you like a puppet and its puppeteer.

Your body is recovering much slower than your mind is and you’re convinced that your brain is only running at this speed because of pure rage and desperation—to the point where its ignored all other sensations. All you can think of is run.

Run to get Rudo.

Run to get Jabber.

Run to save Gris.

Run to save Zanka.

And that you did. You moved so quickly that you managed to reach your opponent in under 5 seconds despite it feeling like an entire hour for you. He doesn’t even notice your presence before you’re landing a kick on his back, mentally apologizing to Rudo as he tumbles away from both of you.

“You think you can get away from me, you bitch!” The words escape you before you can even think to censor them around Rudo, your fingers grabbing Jabber by the hair and throwing him harshly towards a pillar, which crumbles beneath the force.

You leap towards him, throwing punch after punch to his face. When you see even the smallest hint of a smile on his face, you step back, your body almost getting swallowed by the bright light of your jinki as your hands raise steadily in front of you, directing a surge of sound energy towards his claws once again.

This time they shatter instantly, and Jabber gains enough strength to leap towards you and punch you in the face. There are no toxins or cuts from metal—his claws haven’t regenerated fast enough, though you think he might have broken your nose.

But instead of hitting you again, he runs. Away from the exit, away from Rudo, all while cackling like an asylum patient.

You’re running after him as his frenzied laughter reverberate through the basement.

“You’re batshit!” he yells, sounding deliriously delighted. “Keep going and you’ll make me think you’re as crazy as I am!”

You growl in response—loud and almost predatory as you force Ayane to make you move even faster. “I’m going to kill you.”

It’s barely audible, but clearly, he hears it.

“Shit,” he mutters under his breath, still looking exhilarated, but with a hint of nerves this time.

However, when he looks back at you, there’s a wide, toothy smile on his face.

He lunges forward just as his claws fully grow back and aims right in front of him.

Just as Zanka’s body comes into view.

You hastily maneuver to the side, being able to grab Jabber by the back of his shirt and you both stumble into the shadows. He falls down and groans—his laughter only being interrupted for a second.

At this point, a little more of his insanity and it might rub off on you.

With the help of Ayane, you manage to keep yourself on your feet, but you can feel your energy rapidly depleting. You can’t power your jinki as much as you were able to when you started running after him, but you try anyway—the fight isn’t over yet.

Jabber stands to his full height, and when you leap forward, he jumps as well.

Except not at you.

It’s at Zanka again.

But this time you’re mid-air—weak, running on fumes, and absolutely not in the right mind to make any precise decisions. You turn to your side and throw your hands in front of you towards the ground. A surge of energy comes out, hitting the ground which propels you in front of Zanka.

In front of Jabber’s claws.

It’s not the brightest decision you’ve ever made. Perhaps Zanka’s right; distractions can be deadly.

But as you lay on the ground, mouth gaping in a silent scream when Jabber rips his claws out of your stomach, you can see your boyfriend laying several feet in front of you.

You aren’t even as close as you originally thought you were before you threw caution to the wind. You had the time to stop him some other way before he reached Zanka.

Jabber slowly turns your head towards him with his claws, making several cuts on your cheek in the process.

“Damn you’re good! Almost as good as me,” he hollers, crouching beside your head, claws still digging under your skin. “Almost. Because you get suicidal for Mr. Bad Attitude over there.”

He doesn’t waste any more time running away, but this time, you’re in no condition to chase him when you can feel the toxins run through your veins.

“See ya if ya live, Ms. Supersoldier!”

That’s the last thing you hear before he fades into the shadows and more blood pools under you. When you try to take a deep breath, there’s a sharp pain in your torso, and it sends you into a coughing fit that sends blood splattering onto the floor.

Great, you think. Internal bleeding.

“A-Ayane,” you rasp, looking up at the ceiling. “one…more time…p-please.”

You can feel the vibrations through your body but it’s weak, and the light from your jinki just at the corner of your eye begins to blink. It jumps back into life…then fades into nothing.

There’s nothing.

You’re done for.

And you know you are when you hear Zanka begin to stir, peeling himself off of the floor and walks forward—towards the exit.

He didn’t see you.

How could he? You’re shrouded in darkness, too far for him to see, too motionless for him to sense your presence.

You’re not sure if it breaks your heart more to hear his footsteps get farther, or the realization that you won’t be able to make good on your promise to him.

You just hope that he knows you tried.

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

It’s not long after Jabber finally gets out of that building that he gets hit and cornered by the rest of the Cleaners—Enjin looking absolutely furious.

The questioning isn’t effective, either. The only thing they get from the crazed Raider is a few gross comments about getting hard and a monologue they don’t quite find it in themselves to care for.

They let him go for the most part, without fighting the Raider that came to get him. The priority is for Tomme and the rest to go get the people left in the basement—especially Gris.

But it seems even after his brief spat with a mostly-paralyzed Rudo, Jabber still wants to get the last word in, looking at all of them with a sinister grin and a frantic look in his bulging eyes.

“You better get your little team member down there,” he giggles. “I’d love it if I get to fight Ms. Supersoldier again. Sorry I had to play a little dirty.”

Soon after the manhole disappears, Tomme and the others come back, carefully carrying Gris and letting Enjin know that they’ll come back for Zanka and you.

The Cleaners are all confused to hear that you’re even there—but Enjin only sighs when he remembers how vague Semiu had been when he asked about your whereabouts. Of course you’d follow.

Anywhere Zanka goes, you go. Maybe he’s yet to learn his lesson when it comes to you.

But before anyone can go back down, Zanka comes jumping up that hole to the basement, dusting off his clothes and looking like absolute shit. He’s covered in debris and his muscles look stiff.

The effects of the toxins aren’t done just yet. It’s just that he managed to crawl through the pain and paralyzation, taking a page from Rudo’s book and just tanking it, he guesses.

He still can’t move much, and so he sits down, panting from the exhaustion of it all. He looks up and waves off everyone else. “I’m up, I’m up,” he grumbles. “Where’s Y/N? I need to yell at her for following—”

He freezes when he looks around.

You aren’t here.

But you promised?

Fear washes over him and his gaze lands on a confused Enjin. “W-Where’s Y/N? She said she’d meet me here after—”

“She’s not up here,” the blond mutters, his eyebrows creasing with masked worry.

Tomme nervously speaks from beside Gris. “She wasn’t where we passed by.”

“She wasn’t with me, either,” Zanka adds, almost breathless. He thinks that maybe if he looks hard enough, he’ll see you in the crowd, but almost every one of his friends are as lost as him. “I was the farthest from everyone else.”

Enjin quickly orders everybody to go down, demanding that Zanka and Rudo remain where they are, sending a pointed look to the former when he tries to get up. The only ones left are Eisha, who’s working on Gris and the rest of the Supporters.

They all know that you’re down there.

It’s just that when the others were all incapacitated, the battle had taken a pretty clear path. Either they’re close to the exit or they were far from it, but none strayed far from the straight line they had been running.

Zanka steadies his breathing when he realizes that he truly has no idea where you are.

“She got to me,” Rudo says from a few feet away, straining as he tries to sit up and lean against some rubble. “She kicked that shithead’s ass but he ran back towards ya.”

“Y/N chased after him?” Zanka asks, though he’s quite sure of the answer.

The boy nods wordlessly.

It feels like hours to him before everyone finally gets back up. At this point the effects of the toxin is tolerable enough that Zanka jumps up when he sees Enjin.

This is because it’s clear that the blond is carrying a body, and a wave of relief hits him like a truck when he recognizes your clothes.

God you must have been exhausted. He saw you take on Jabber like no one else—warmth spreads across his chest and he’s filled with pride. It’s unexpected. Usually he’d be jealous when someone shows the amount of talent that you did at your age, but surprisingly, there’s nothing else aside from respect and happiness that you’re safe. He makes a mental note to pamper you with affection after how he’s treated you the past few days.

It’s really only when he sees you with a bleeding head that guilt begins to knawe at him. He’d been nothing but dismissive of you, even yelling at you before this mission, only for you to follow and save their asses even if you did end up getting banged up in the end.

He assumed it’s because you thought he’s incapable or weak; that maybe you followed because you felt the need to babysit him.

But when you were crawling desperately back to him despite your injuries, and when he saw that faint smile, the relief on your face, when you saw that he was safe; he finally figured out that it’s not that complicated.

You want to see him safe just as much as he wants to see you safe.

The bubble of relief that he was blessed with was quickly and aggressively popped when he sees the blood dripping from Enjin’s arms. More blood than he expected.

Way too much blood.

It’s then that he notices the grim look on everyone’s face, how they send him worried, pitiful glances.

He runs to you and he forgets to breathe.

You’re pale; the colour of a corpse. There’s red dripping from your mouth and painting most of your stomach

“Shit…” Rudo breaths out, and he feels a pang in his chest when he thinks of how you would’ve reprimanded him for cursing.

Zanka is still holding his breath when he raises his hand to touch your cheek. His entire body flinches at the slight contact.

You’re cold.

And now that he’s gotten a better look at you, your breathing is dangerously shallow.

He didn’t even try. He didn’t even try to look for you on his way to the exit. He trusted you’d keep your word—that you’d be safe. Surely someone as strong as you didn’t need help from him, right?

And yet, despite his hurtful words towards you, and how you’ve always expressed how strong you think he is, you still followed him to this mission.

All because you cared.

Does that mean he doesn’t care enough?

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST STANDING THERE?” he snaps, eyes almost as crazed as the one who did this to you. “GO HEAL HER, EISHIA!”

He points to the healer, hands shaking in fear.

“N-Not here, Zanka. Gris is already—”

“THEN WHATS THE POINT OF YOU??”

Zanka could see the hurt in Eishia’s eyes but he couldn’t care less. He takes you from Enjin’s arms and walks over to the healer, but Enjin lays a steady hand on his shoulder and pointed to the car with his free one.

“We need to get her to HQ.”

Silently, Zanka makes his way to the vehicle and manages to rip open the door with his hand despite you being in his arms; in his panic, he yells insults at everyone else he thinks is too slow to move to the car.

In the mere seconds that he’s alone he squeezes you tightly. There’s a make-shift bandage around your torso and your head, much like you did with Gris—but your wound looks more fresh and less healed—you’re much paler than the injured Supporter and sustained more damage.

His breath hitches when he realizes that if Gris is teetering at the edge of death after he’d received much more medical attention that you have, then what would happen to you?

He lets out the quietest of whimpers when he remembers how dark it was down there.

You must have spent so much time alone in the shadows, bleeding out while he makes his way up, not even giving it a second thought that you were just fine.

He’d left you alone.

And the worst part is he hadn’t left you alone just now. He’d left you alone since his training with Rudo.

He’d left you alone because he was embarrassed; yet you still made sure to protect him even when you were laying on a pool of your own blood from a head wound—during a mission you weren’t even supposed to be in.

If you die now, Jabber may as well have killed him, too.

Or would he have killed you because he didn’t try enough?

He hopes that you know he would’ve.

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

Waiting for Eishia to finish patching you up is worse than training Rudo. He’d take several days of that than this—and he’d do it with a smile, now that he knows this agony. He’s the only one left in the hallway now. The rest went to grab some snacks.

They were all told that it’d take a while for you to heal, unlike Gris who, despite taking a lot of damage as well, was already up. Meanwhile, Enjin had to accompany Eishia and an unconscious you to Alice—the damage you sustained was far worse than originally thought.

There’s the head wound, which he saw happen with his own eyes, then the stabbing. The former was bad enough to almost knock you unconscious—he doesn’t even know how you manage to get up from that.

It amazes him.

But he curses your strength. If you aren’t so powerful maybe you would have never chased after them; maybe you’d be safe. Scratched up, yes, but the worst of it would have only been a head wound.

Apparently, Jabber upped the dosage of poison to your system to a level was should’ve been enough to kill you. Rudo and him got away with less than an hour of paralysis before they’re walking again.

But there seemed to have been intent to kill when it was you who faced that Raider. By some miracle you managed to pull through, and as much as Zanka would like to think that maybe Jabber meant to spare you after all, he believes it’s just pure luck, maybe strength and sheer willpower, that you stayed alive.

Enjin said that the working theory is that you, with the help of Ayane, somehow managed to heal your body—but at a very, dangerously slow pace. Follo had informed them what you did with Gris, and maybe you did the same for yourself, but you weren’t conscious enough to make it as effective.

It was more of a last-ditch effort to stay alive as long as possible, according to Enjin.

Clearly, since Gris is already well enough to have gone back to his room but Zanka is still sitting on the bench, with a bowl of beef noodle soup that’s gone cold for the third time since they got back. It’d been three days of this.

He hasn’t even seen you yet. He can, but he doesn’t think he can bear to see you unconscious and gravely injured. Everyone else has come by and checked in on you, even on him, but none have managed to convince him to enter the room. Despite it being a shared room, you’re the only one there; a constant reminder to him that you’re the only casualty during their run-in with the Raiders.

Zanka looks at the bowl next to him, his fists gripping the fabric of his pants, teeth grinding in frustration.

You’d been the only casualty because he was so weak you had to fight alone.

During a mission he insisted on leading.

He wonders what would’ve happened if you didn’t come along. Would he be in your place? If he were, he’s sure you’d be at his bedside, waiting for him to wake up, talking to him and encouraging him to open his eyes.

He wasn’t strong enough to fight Jabber—and now he’s not even strong enough to look at you.

His head swivels to the door of your room when he hears a loud thud and a low grunt—he moves before his mind can catch up to him. Is someone breaking in through the window to hurt you? Have the Raiders somehow broken in to finish the job?

Is he too late to save you again?

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

It’s a stupid decision, really. You seem to be doing a lot of stupid things recently.

But when you woke up and saw the empty room, how it’s so quiet it almost hurt your ears, you couldn’t resist calling out to someone to see if anyone’s there. You had passed out all alone. Waking up the same way made your heart sink in the worst way possible.

You try to speak but nothing comes out. There wasn’t anything but a wheeze. A low, quiet one that made your throat feel so hoarse you had to force an in-coming coughing fit to stop. If you did cough, you’re almost certain your lungs will start bleeding.

You know the logical thing to do was to wait until someone comes in, but the feeling in your chest says otherwise—your heart was pounding, and your ribcage feels like it’s getting so small that there wasn’t any space to breathe. If you don’t do anything, you’d end up scratching a hole in your chest just to try and get oxygen.

Which is how you ended up falling on your ass on the floor, right after you attempted to leave your hospital bed.

You mentally curse at yourself as you weakly try to get up, but your arms feel too heavy, and your legs won’t move so much as an inch. The body you once moved so effortlessly during the worst of fights in the worst of conditions is now being outdone by gravity.

“Shit,” someone mutters from the doorway.

And when you turn your head, you see a very stiff, very distraught-looking Zanka staring back at you. There are too many emotions swimming within his eyes that you can’t discern them one by one—he’s just looking at you. Looking at your soul, maybe, with how intense he looks.

You can clearly see you’re not in the most flattering state right now. There’s an I.V sticking out the back of your hand, you’re in a hospital gown, and you’re on the floor, struggling to get up.

It must’ve been really bad, you think. Most of the time you’re left to wear your own clothes, since healing doesn’t usually take so long that it requires easy access to your body.

But with the thick bandage you can feel around your midsection, there’s definitely a need to keep an eye on that wound.

You only manage to smile softly at your boyfriend, weakly raising your hand to wave while mouthing a silent “hello”.

Wordlessly, he strides toward you, his clothes billowing behind him at his speed. His face is blank and he gently swoops you in his arms, placing you down on your bed.

“Can’t stay in bed now, can ya?” he mutters, fluffing the sides of your pillow and draping a blanket over you. The silence is surprisingly tense while he frets, smoothing over every wrinkle on the bedsheet and even tucking you in.

You let it happen. Zanka has been distant for so long that the warmth of his care fills your entire body; almost erases the pain.

But of course, even good things come to an end, and he eventually stops in favour of pulling up a chair so he can sit at your bedside. All he does is stare. There’s no deciphering what’s in his mind unless you use Ayane, but last time you did, there wasn’t any good news.

Staring back at him, tears start to well in your eyes, and his fists clench before he sighs, slumping back onto the back rest of his seat. “I…I’m glad you’re okay.”

His shoulder begins to tense up, eyes wandering to the floor. “That was stupid. Ya hear me? You should’ve run away. Should’ve never followed us.”

“Sorry.” That’s all you could muster. The rasp in your voice is so bad that it’s barely intelligible, and you know he hears it when his eyebrows give you the slightest twitch.

He fetches you a glass of water from the pitcher that someone had left on your bedside table. Ever so quiet, he brings the rim of the cup to your lips, the liquid flowing down your throat.

It feels like the first sip you’ve had in 10 years and it makes your eyes water again from the sheer relief—the tears, however, keep coming when you feel Zanka’s fingers gently graze under your chin.

When he sets it back down, he wipes away the tears that fall down your cheek. “Does anything hurt?” he whispers, almost like if he spoke any louder you might break. “D’ya want me to get Eishia?”

You shake your head and slowly lean forward, the pain making it a big struggle especially when he tries to push you back down. He couldn’t—not when you wrap your arms around him, your chin resting on his shoulder.

He sits down beside you only to return your embrace. It makes you tense up for a moment but you relax into it when you realize that Zanka fully accepted the physical contact.

Due to the pain, the medication, and the company, you can feel yourself beginning to succumb to the pull of sleep; your eyes droop against your will and it only takes a few seconds before you’re knocked it.

It’s not long until you wake up again, but this time, everyone is present, either leaning against the wall, sitting down, or standing up with their feet tapping on the floor. Apparently Eishia notified them that you were stirring awake.

The entirety of Team Akuta waited patiently until you were fully conscious; though with the amount of noise you woke up to, they weren’t exactly quiet.

“Hey!” Enjin hollers, striding towards your bedside to give you a pat on the shoulder that’s a bit too heavy handed; you flinch. “Welcome back from the dead, lil miss poison control!”

He earns a glare from Zanka but you laugh it off, though a bit confused and breathy with how hoarse your throat is. It’s become much better after more water and another day’s sleep.

“What happened?” you ask, looking around the group.

“You got stabbed and drugged big time,” Riyo chimes in. “Alice said the poison’s still in your system.”

You cringe, not liking how the implication that you have a long way to go in terms of recovery. If Alice had to be involved then it must be pretty bad. The thought of having Jabber’s mysterious poison concoction in your bloodstream is not the most comforting in the world—especially not after seeing how crazy it made him. You’re grateful nonetheless that despite the dire circumstances you found yourselves in, everyone pretty much made in unscathed aside from you and Gris.

And from what you hear, Gris is doing just fine compared to you, which made you incredibly relieved.

“That means no training for a month,” Enjin teases, though you can sense the serious undertone. He really does mean it even if it’s lighthearted. “Isn’t that fun? You get a month off!”

You groan in defeat, somehow sinking deeper into your hospital bed as you feel Zanka’s hand rub your arm in reassurance. “I’m gonna rot here,” you grumble.

Just then, Rudo, who’s been standing the farthest away from you with his head down, finally spoke, though very hesitantly. “We’ll keep you company. I’ll get Dear and Guita if you want to move around a bit…”

The slight shake in his voice is clear. His eyes are cast down, evading eye contact as his hands ball into fists, gripping the hem of his sweater.

You weakly hold a hand out to the boy. “Come here, Rudo.”

With slow, unsure steps, he moves toward you but he doesn’t move his hands from their tight grip on his clothes.

You wrap your hand around his forearm cautiously, using your thumb to trace soothing circles over his long sleeves so he can feel it more than if you had held his gloves. “It’s not your fault, kid.”

His eyes snap to yours—almost as if he’s surprised. “B-But I couldn’t—”

With your free hand you hold your index finger up to shush him. “It wasn’t your job to protect me. I’m the older one. It’s the other way around, got it?” You try to muster the sternest look you can give him but you aren’t sure if you succeed, since your energy is currently at the negative numbers right now. You settle with softly squeezing his arm. “I wasn’t even supposed to be there. This,” you gesture to yourself. “Is the result of my own decisions. Not your actions or inactions.”

Rudo squeezes his eyes shut and tilts his head down, practically white-knuckling his sweater hem as tears fall down his cheeks; you’re quick to wipe them away.

“It’s not your fault,” you whisper once more.

You can see that Enjin was about to say something when Rudo lifts his head up slowly, and the blond shut his mouth when the kid’s face came into view, unobscured by his hair.

Rudo was giving you…a frankly terrifying facial expression. His eyes are impossibly wide and his mouth is…grimacing? Snarling? The corners of his lips practically reach his ears in a disturbingly alarming, extremely threatening, way.

Your boyfriend stands up and angrily points at the boy. “Hey! My girlfriend here was sweet as fuck! What are ya making that face for, ya scuzzball?!”

The expression is dropped immediately and you can tell he’s about to retaliate when you sit up too quickly, grunting and letting go of Rudo in favour of supporting your mid-section.

Zanka is quick to forget his little argument to fuss over you, mumbling about how you’re too impulsive for your own good, and insisting you lay back down only to be met with a firm shake of your head.

“Zanka,” you call out, patting the top of his head. “I’m okay, I promise. Sit back down.”

And he does, although he looks like a kicked puppy whose glare can kill the boy on the other side of your bed, who looks both confused, agitated, and guilty all at the same time.

You assess him for a moment, trying to decipher what could have possibly triggered Rudo to make such a face when he’s usually the sweetest person around you and your other friends.

It’s then that you remember how socially awkward he is. How he’s pretty much inept with anything involving interactions with other people. He’s a weirdo but in a lovable way, and incredibly reckless and unpredictable even in the smallest, insignificant circumstances.

If you don’t know any better, you would have assumed the same as Zanka. That he’s disrespecting you in his own odd way.

But judging by how he was showing his teeth—you think you can take a wild guess.

“Rudo were you…” you giggle, looking around at Enjin, Riyo, and your boyfriend to see if anyone else have the same thoughts as you. Everyone seems interested in the unfolding events but Zanka looks like he’s about to pop a vein with how hard he’s trying to keep his anger at bay. “Were you trying to smile?”

Just then, the white-haired boy makes a face of utter surprise and relief. “Y-yes. I thought it might make you feel better,” he mumbles.

You burst out laughing uncontrollably at the same time that Enjin does. Riyo joins in, although her chuckles are a lot softer compared to your cackling, all the while Zanka looks absolutely horrified by the revelation.

You and Enjin are crying at this point, but your tears are partially due to the searing pain that stabs at your stomach with every burst of breath that escapes your lungs.

The coughing fit that starts from deep in your chest fails to stop you, but it does prompt Enjin to stand beside Rudo and rest an arm around his shoulders, wiping the tears that are threatening to fall. “Alrigh, alright, I think we need to give her some time to rest. Any more of this and she might rip her stitches.”

Riyo goes to you as well, ruffling your hair before smoothing it down. She turns to Rudo when your laughs begin to calm down. “Maybe you should hold off on smiling,” she smirks, finding the confused Rudo and a borderline-traumatised Zanka more entertaining than fighting trash beasts

“We should—" Enjin stops himself, his eyes looking far off as he remembers something. “Oh yeah, I forgot to ask…” he trails off, keeping his arm around Rudo but looking inquisitive. “That Raider said he’s sorry for playing dirty. Is that how he beat you up so badly? Rudo said you almost crushed that Jabber guy!”

Zanka growls and grinds his teeth, his hand reaching out to yours, holding it almost protectively. “I’m gonna kill him the next time I see him…” He’s looking so intently at your connected hands but he doesn’t look like he’s all there, like his mind is somewhere else.

You frown at the memory, glancing at Zanka for a moment before forcing your eyes away and craning your neck towards Enjin. “Yeah.” There’s a beat of silence. “He went for Zanka.”

Your boyfriend whips his head up, sending a sharp look to you. “And ya got stabbed because what? Ya took the hit for me?”

Sighing, you let yourself fall back onto your bed, just barely able to suppress a grunt of pain when your back hit the soft mattress. You stare up at the ceiling, your hands holding tightly onto Zanka’s.

“I didn’t intend to. I was pretty much half-conscious by that point. I used Ayane to move me around instead of actually moving. I couldn’t measure the distance—I thought he was one jump away from digging his claws into you so I wasn’t really thinking. You didn’t see me because I was too far away,” you explained, grimacing when you remember the sight of Zanka’s limping form. “He did it twice. Ran away from Rudo just to pretend like he was going to hurt you. It was a fake-out but obviously I was too out of it to realize.”

From the corner of your eye, you see Enjin open his mouth to say something, but you cut him off. “Can I speak with Zanka alone, please?” you ask no one in particular, keeping your eyes to the ceiling.

No one really says anything before they leave, not even Enjin, who would usually get the last word in via an untimely joke.

You shut your eyes and one of your hands let go of Zanka just to clutch at the blanket covering your legs. “I know I shouldn’t have gotten distracted. I’m sorry. I know you hate that.”

With a half-hearted huff, he puts a hand on your arm, rubbing soothingly up and down. “Ignore me. Don’t think about that.”

He isn’t snippy by any means, but his answers are short and clipped—he can’t look into your eyes for long, too. You can tell there’s something on his mind, and you think you know what it is.

“You don’t have to stay here, you know.” Your lip starts to quiver. You take your hand and arm away from his hold so you can pull the blanket out of your neck and turn your back to him. It doesn’t even take a full minute before you start to sniffle.

“Wha—” He reaches for you, but you flinch away when his fingers make contact with your shoulder. “Hey, Y/N, what the fuck—”

Despite swallowing hard, the lump in your throat only seems to get bigger. “I used Ayane—I heard you. I’m sorry.” Shame builds up in your chest and you have to gulp down the bile that rushes up your throat. “I know you want to break up with me. It’s okay, we can talk about this when—”

“Huh?!”

The sheer volume of his voice makes your heart jump. Then—confusion. Why does he sound confused??

A rush of footsteps is heard going around your bed, stopping just in front of you before you’re face-to-face with him. He kneels onto the floor, hands clutching the side of your bed with his eyes bugging out of their sockets. “The fuck are ya talking about?? Is Ayane broken or some shit??”

Instead of letting relief wash over you, too terrified to give into hope, you clutch onto your midsection and sit up sideways, your left arm supporting your body weight. “I heard you!” you accuse, though weakly. “In the cafeteria. You were thinking that if you leave me, you won’t be distracted anymore!”

Try as you might, with the shakiness of your voice due to the strain you’re putting on your body, there’s just not enough energy for you to sound as mad as you wanted to.

The way your own voice sounds to you hurts your ears. The desperation laced within it isn’t how you’d imagine this conversation would go. Ideally, it would be more adult-sounding, maybe amicable; you always thought you’d be able to accept if anything like this happens.

Zanka is no stranger to you. You know he puts his training and improvement above anything else—including you.

His mouth opens and closes, eyebrows creased thoughtfully, and his eyes get lost in yours for a second, as if he’s fishing for a memory he can’t quite grasp. Then, it all seems to come crashing down on him, and his hold on your mattress tightens, his teeth grinds and then—

His forehead touches your bed, falling face-first, and then he groans. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, muffled, but intelligible enough. Zanka raises his head back to face you. “I did—I considered it,” he admits, causing your eyes to glisten, tears threatening to spill down.

But before you could lay back down onto the bed, Zanka reaches forward to cup your cheek gently in one hand. “Not for long, I promise. I was just…I was embarrassed, is all.”

You scooch over a bit to make space for him, silently patting the space beside you as an olive branch. You can’t bring yourself to speak. He’s being vulnerable, and you’re afraid that even a small peep from you might spook him into silence.

He looks just a tiny bit relieved at the gesture and sits down next to you, Wordlessly, he opens his arms and looks at you reluctantly, almost like he’s asking for permission.

You lean forward and let yourself be embraced by, and you’d swear on it, the warmest, most inviting arms you’ve ever been held by. His tense shoulders relax when he feels your body against him, and he thinks his heart might have skipped a few beats when your arms loosely wrap around his torso.

Zanka nuzzles his face in your hair and breathes you in. “I got distracted when I saw ya—that time I was training Rudo? Yeah. I thought I was so weak. I couldn’t even train properly.” He huffs and holds you a little tighter. “Enjin says I’m whipped.”

When he feels you giggle, he can’t help but join you.

“I didn’t want to be,” he continues. “If I really am, then that means I can’t protect you.”

“But—”

“I know,” he interjects. “Ya can protect yourself. Even held your own with that Jabber guy. So don’t apologize, ya hear? Just—” he trails off, shifting a bit so he can use one of his hands to lift your head up to him, his fingers under your chin and his breaths fan your lips. “Just stay here. I won’t leave ya. You don’t have to do nothin’—just be here. Distract me. Give me someone to protect.”

Right then and there, mere inches away from his face, you can finally read his eyes. The emotions that swim right behind his irises.

There’s fear, somewhere in there. Heavily guarded. Even now, despite being completely and utterly relaxed by your presence, there’s still a haze of reluctance. An almost-automatic need to be strong even in the face of anguish.

But this is more than you can ask for from him.

You nod.

And without any other words, you bury your face in his chest, feeling his heartbeat.

His arms wrap protectively around you once more, fingers running through your hair, his legs tangling with yours with the utmost care and caution as to not mess with the wires and tubes still connected to you.

“Let’s talk about the rest when your ass is fully healed,” he whispers. “I’m not leaving, so we have all the time in the world.”