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They didn't even mention them.
First those Cleaners allowed Zanka to get amnesia. And then they didn't even mention them.
The blank look in the other's eyes made Goka sick to his stomach, even if a lifetime of training made sure none of it showed on his face. Kyoka was faring none the better if he had to judge. The team’s leader only offered a shaky smile, trying his best to manage the situation.
And Zanka? Zanka just continued to stare. Not even at them, no- at his leader. At the incompetent rat who allowed him to get a fucking head injury and forget who he was. Who kept them from him after and never even told him he had biological family- that he had a past before the Cleaners. He just looked, confused and trusting and silently asking for an explanation like he used to do when he was a child. Like he used to do with Goka.
Like he should do with no one but Goka.
And yet, Zanka had been weak. Weak and tiny and fragile enough to forget. To let himself forget. To be ambushed during a mission and sustain a head injury bad enough to cause amnesia. And those co-dependents picked him up and brought him back. And then they didn't even tell him that he had siblings. Didn't even inform them about it either until now, just kept him like that. Goka felt his nails dig into the palm of his hand from how strong he'd been clenching it.
He knew, logically, that there was no reason for them to inform Kyouka or him. Zanka had left the family. Disowned and rejected by their father the moment he'd revealed not only that he was a Giver- but that he'd choose the cleaners over his duty too. They were brothers by blood only. They had been brothers by blood only for years. The only reason they even met now was for a cooperation on a mission, the fact that he didn’t remember them shouldn’t matter as long as he could fight. But–
But still.
Zanka at least deserved to know. For his past to be told to him if he didn't remember himself, as embarrassing as it was. He wasn't supposed to look at them like they were mere strangers. And he most certainly wasn’t supposed to seek someone else’s answer out over them.
In the end, Kyouka was the first to speak. The tense silence broken by her voice pulled tight and carefully controlled as she formed the words, “Zanka. Do you recognise who we are?”
Your sister, your brother.
Can you at least show you know our names?
Do you remember that?
Are we truly strangers to you?
Are you still Zanka?
Do you know who we are supposed to be?
At the end of the day- will you recognise your own blood?
Do you recognise who we are?
The questions asked themselves without needing to be said. The reply went unsaid.
Zanka did not hear them. He used to be able to read them better than that.
The younger only tilted his head and squinted, nose wrinkling as he thought. It reminded Goka of when they were younger, when things were easier. Back when Zanka was still curious and didn't fear the reprimands of a stupid question. When he was even weaker and even more pathetic but when he still knew who they were and what they were and—
“Based on the clothes? Hell Guard, if I had to guess.” Unsure and genuine. An honest assumption. A guess based on their clothes. Nothing more. “Why? Yer got an issue with me?”
‘Yer got an issue with me?’, like they were strangers. ‘Hell Guard’, like he never met them before.
It would be a lie to say that Goka had a good relationship with his younger brother. But this was just too much. Too disrespectful. Too much of an insult. He still stared at the other cleaners, those- those rats as though they could protect him when they couldn’t. When he couldn’t even protect himself, but they just lied to him. And how dare they do that? How dare they not tell him—
And why– why did Zanka look happier for it?
Unsure upon meeting and interacting with them, yes. But also lighter. Easier. As though a weight far too heavy had fallen off his shoulders. His face seemed fuller, his eyes were softer– when he looked at them, there was neither trepidation nor fear nor anything else. He looked young and easy and innocent. Like a baby.
Like his baby brother.
Like little Zanka, who followed after him and Kyouka on unsteady feet as he learned to walk. Squealing for their attention and love, greedy and fragile and pathetic but oh so lovable. Who looked at them like they’d hung the moon and the stars, like they were the suns his tiny world revolved around. The centre of his universe. The pinnacle of safety. The things he both wanted to be and never could be, but whom he still cared for and loved because how could he not?
How could he not want to be like them and follow in their footsteps?
How could he not care for his older siblings and want their approval?
How could he not—
How could–
How…–
How could he not remember them?
“What did you do?”
Goka knew this behaviour was unbecoming. Logically, he understood that what he was doing was wrong. That he was disappointing his sister and besmirching his family name. Not even the newest of recruits would ever dream of behaving in such a way, much less in front of his sister of all people. If he ever saw anyone besides himself acting like that– hell, he’d never let them forget their punishment. This was not how a Hell Guard was supposed to act, much less how the Second-in-Command of Red Horns Squad One is supposed to carry himself.
He’d always been a hot head. He’d always been far too quick to anger. Goka knew that, he thought he knew how to restrain himself too. But the thought- the idea of Zanka not remembering them, of spending his life ignorant– because they were never even mentioned–
It made him angry. Angrier than he had been when Zanka became a Giver, angrier than he had been when he joined the Cleaners, a billion times angrier than he had ever been in his life before. They were brothers in nothing but blood, and part of Goka knew that the Cleaners probably weren’t being malicious when not telling Zanka. How could they even bring the topic up? After all that happened, if he could not even recall his past, how could they ever try to explain? It wasn’t like their relationship was particularly important to know about for him to function. Zanka loved the Cleaners. Zanka was happier with them. He shouldn’t care so much.
And yet Goka still rushed forward. Still grabbed the collar of that blonde rat calling himself Zanka’s leader. Still hit him and yelled at him and asked how dare you!? You scum. You kept Zanka’s past from him!? You never even mentioned us!? How dare you! We were right all along– you cleaners are truly—
When Zanka’s staff connected to his torso, pushing him and flinging him down, the only thing Goka felt was pain. Dull, sudden, and definitely bound to leave a bruise. “What the fuck are yer doing!?” The younger asked, anger that was too similar to Goka’s, colouring his voice. “Seriously! What’s the deal with yer’ freaks!? Enjin, didn’t you say this was a cooperation!? What are those– those weirdos even yapping ‘bout? Should I know them–?”
There was a rushing thrumm in Goka’s ear drowning out everything else. The cold metal of Zanka’s Jinki dug uncomfortably into his flesh despite his armour, firmly anchored into the ground to keep him secured. Any more pressure and he’d be in two. He’d– Goka had never been struck by Zanka before. Not like that. Not like he meant it. He looked up to meet eyes with Kyouka, he couldn’t read them at all.
“I’m your brother!” The words pushed themselves out of Goka’s throat by a force he didn’t know. Was it a conscious decision? It felt strange. He hadn’t called Zanka that since they were kids, he never needed to before. “I am your brother, Zanka. Those- Those rats didn’t tell you, but we are brothers. That- Kyouka is your sister. We are siblings. That’s what I’m talking about! These people didn’t even tell you about your own family, so let me go and–”
Zanka only rammed the staff further into the ground. “Ha!? What bullshit are yer telling me now? No way in hell am I related to whatever yer people are! I’d crawl into a well and never come out!”
