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"Enjin. What were thinking bringing that kid here?"
Arkha Corvus asked his best (but most troublesome) Cleaner. He kept his voice calm but firm, hoping that Enjin would pick up on the severity of his tone without having to explain that this was indeed a really big deal. He didn't think he needed to explain why having a Nijiku on their payroll was a capital 'P' Problem, but here they were. The blond managed to shatter his expectations once again.
Although... He thought back to the would-be assassin that haunted the halls of HQ and sighed. He really shouldn't be surprised at this point.
"Couldn't be helped," Enjin shrugged, that infuriating unbothered smile tugging at his lips. He really wasn’t taking this seriously.
The leader of Cleaner’s HQ frowned in response. “Not a good answer. Try again.”
"They made it pretty clear they didn't want him," Enjin answered cooly. "Couldn't just leave him there."
Corvus was made aware of the poor state the youngest Nijiku was in when Enjin returned to HQ from his trip to the Kamuatari District. It wasn't explicitly stated in the medical report but it wasn't hard to guess what had happened.
Disinherited. Cast out in every sense of the word. But that didn’t mean Zanka Nijiku was automatically their problem now.
Enjin really knew how to pick them.
"Besides...something tells me he's got a lot more to offer here than back there," the leader of Team Akuta gazed back at him with an unusually serious expression. "Semiu confirmed as much, too."
Ahhh playing the Semiu card. Corvus closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, thinking it through. It was hard to argue with Semiu. She never got it wrong, after all.
“Did you talk to the family?”
“…Kinda,” Enjin responded slowly. “They were fine with it.”
Corvus stared at him skeptically.
“They didn’t stop me.”
Yeah that sounded more accurate.
“The kid has potential, Corvus,” Enjin explained. “Talent that we can really use at HQ. He was trained by the Hell Guard, for fuck’s sake. I think it’s possible to channel that energy into something great one day.”
The older Giver didn’t disagree. The Nijiku family was elite, the top of their class in everything they did. The youngest sibling was likely no exception. But it was still a risk, a rather big one.
"Fine," he agreed after thinking it through. "But if this becomes a problem for us, it's on you. He's your responsibility now."
.
.
.
A few days later his curiosity got the better of him, and he called the new recruit and his recruiter into his office. He made a point to meet each new Cleaner who joined the organization, and this one was no exception.
Although, based on what he read on paper, he was skeptical: Zanka Nijiku (disinherited): Hell Guard trained. Awakened his jinki not even a week prior to joining. Never fought a trash beast. Probably never even seen one before either, considering how tightly locked up the Kamuatari district was.
Enjin was usually a good judge of character, but he better have a damn good reason for inviting this much trouble onto the organization. He would have to see for himself.
The Akuta leader strode in with his newest charge in tow. As soon as the pair entered the office, Enjin hung back by the door while Zanka approached cautiously. He stopped in the middle of the spacious office, leaving a respectable distance between him and the organization’s head of operations.
“Zanka Nijiku,” Corvus greeted him.
He regarded the Nijiku in front of him carefully. The boy looked no older than fifteen years old. He had his sister’s sharp angular bone structure and the distinct eyebrows that characterized the noble household. But he lacked the intensity and the presence that Kyouka Nijiku embodied. It wasn’t a meek presence by any means, but it lacked the confidence that came along with his family name.
Interesting.
“Arkha Corvus,” Zanka acknowledged. “Leader of Cleaners HQ. Thank you for seeing me.”
The young man slowly knelt down on the floor onto his knees in front of his desk. He placed his hands on the carpet in front of him and bowed his head low to the ground. Corvus’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. He looked up at the Akuta leader behind the kid questioningly. Enjin face-palmed hard and shook his head. An uncontrollable grin spread across his face. He was trying to hold back his laughter, albeit quite unsuccessfully.
“Zanka, please. You don’t need to do that here,” the boss reassured him, and encouraged him to stand up again
The kids rose to his feet slowly, hesitantly. His movements were slow and unsure, awkward like a foal trying to stand for the first time. Even when upright, the Nijiku kept his head low and his eyes downcast. He didn’t make eye contact.
“No need to be so formal,” Corvus tried to reassure him. “I may be the boss of HQ, but we all have an important role to play in this organization. The role of Cleaner is just as important as mine is. Without our teams, we would not be in existence today. And therefore, I would rather you saw me as your equal, not your superior.”
“Yes, sir,” he responded but still didn’t look up.
The boss held in a deep sigh. By the door, Enjin held his hand over his mouth to stifle his amusement at the scene in front of him.
“Enjin,” Corvus shot him a look. “Leave us. I want to talk to Zanka alone.”
“Okay boss,” the team leader replied with a far-too cheery tone and reached in his pocket for his pack of cigarettes. “I’ll be back in a bit.”
Before he left, he had the audacity to bow to his boss with a flourish. He then turned around and left, closing the door behind him. The last thing Corvus saw was his wry grin.
I’m glad he thinks this is amusing, Corvus thought to himself. He turned his attention back to the Nijiku in his office. Zanka, on the other hand, held no such misconceptions. The boy stood in the middle of the room stiffly, the distinct aura of nervousness and fear rolling off him in waves.
Was this kid really a Nijiku?
“How old are you, Zanka?”
“Fifteen, sir,” he answered without looking up.
Yes, that seemed about right. From what he could gather, that put him around ten years younger than his eldest sibling. It was quite the age gap.
“What made you want to join the Cleaners?” He asked, not wasting any time to get to the heart of the conversation.
“…” the teenager took a while to answer. He pondered the question before responding. “I want to get stronger, sir.”
“And you couldn’t do that at the Hell Guard?” Corvus asked the obvious follow-up.
“…” the Nijiku quieted down again. Corvus could sense the gears turning in his head. “They don’t allow Givers.”
Fair enough.
“Did you finish the academy?”
That question seemed to strike a cord with the Nijiku. He finally glanced up at him, eyes widening. Corvus did not miss the subtle way his fists clenched as his sides and beads of sweat formed on his brow, a quiet anxiety making itself known in physical ways.
“No, sir,” he answered curtly, then went back to staring at the floor.
“Hmm,” Corvus lowered his tone. “No Golden Throne for you, then.”
“No, sir.”
“That’s too bad.”
An awkward silence settled over them both. Zanka glanced up briefly. He looked like he wanted to say something but held it in.
“Is there something you’d like to say?” the older Giver prompted sternly. The kid bit his lip.
“…Is tha…is that a problem…?” he asked, unsure. “That I didn’t finish?”
“No,” Corvus rested his chin on his hands. “But we don’t have anything like that here, so don’t expect any preferential treatment based on your performance.”
Zanka fell silent. If that bothered him, he didn’t vocalize it.
“Cleaners and Supporters at HQ operate on an even playing field. There is no hierarchy here. You will do well to accept that as soon as possible.”
The Nijiku nodded. His hands trembled slightly.
The older Giver scowled. He was reminded of what Riyo Reaper told him when he asked her about their newest recruit that morning.
[“He’s a bit of a weirdo. Bro doesn’t even know how to wash the fucking dishes. And I don’t think he’s ever had to clean a toilet before. Looked at me like I grew another head when I asked him to do it.”]
Riyo was blunt, but honest. That was what he really appreciated about the girl. She had no filter and the swearing could be kept in check, but she would always tell you the truth.
[“But…he beat me in hand-to-hand combat so I guess he’s alright.”]
It was as glowing of a review as he was going to get from the redhead. But it didn’t justify the lack of effort when it came to contributing to the greater good.
“I was informed that you have been avoiding your custodial responsibilities,” Corvus remarked. He would be remise not to mention it. “I understand that you had servants for that kind of work back home. But we don’t have maids here.”
Zanka almost looked like he was about to retort but quickly thought better of it. He didn’t have to say it. Corvus heard his inner voice loud and clear: ‘I’m here to fight, not do chores.’
The Nijikus operated on an entirely different level than the rest of them. ‘Spoiled rich kid’ is how Enjin described him, and Riyo’s assessment corroborated this. But that attitude wouldn’t fly now that he was with the Cleaners.
“Everyone contributes. That’s what chores are for. They aren’t a punishment,” he said pointedly. “They are how we collectively take care of our shared space. So I suggest you adjust your attitude before it starts to rub the others the wrong way. And if you don’t know how, then you have plenty of colleagues here you can ask and they will be happy to instruct you.”
“Understood, sir.”
Corvus observed the kid’s demeanor. It was fascinating.
Most of the Givers that ended up under their command (especially those that Enjin recruited) spoke without thinking, their gut instincts leading the way. Zanka, on the other hand, made sure to think through the questions carefully before responding. But the contrast between his short no-nonsense responses and his obvious physical unease betrayed deeper emotions brewing beneath the surface— emotions that he kept tightly controlled. He still couldn’t tell if it was due to the perceived power imbalance between them or the kid’s own internalized defense mechanisms, but the result was the same: His guard was up. Way up.
He was a Nijiku, after all. Through and through. It was unlikely that he, the eminent leader of the organization, would be capable of breaking down those walls.
But he could try.
“Do you want some coffee?” he offered.
Zanka lifted his head up in surprise.
“Believe it or not, I didn’t call you in here just to lecture you,” he explained carefully. “I would like to get to know you, Zanka Nijiku. And I find that sharing a cup of coffee helps put even the most antagonistic parties at ease.”
The boy’s eldest sister came to mind. She never once accepted his offers to sit down for a drink with him. He wondered vaguely how much of her mannerisms her youngest brother inherited as well.
Corvus picked up the coffee pot that was sitting on the side of his desk and poured a cup for himself, then a cup for Enjin’s newest recruit. He motioned for the teen to take it and sit on the couch. Zanka approached him stiffly but he politely took the cup and saucer in hand and gently carried it over to the sofa without protest. He sat down slowly, minding the cup and making sure not to spill anything. Corvus came around the desk and sat down opposite the Nijiku, his own coffee in hand.
“Go on, give it a try.”
The youngest Nijiku sibling held the cup delicately, pinky out. Corvus watched as he smelled it first, then took a small sip. His controlled expression gave way to curiosity and he took another sip, evaluating the taste of the bitter drink on his tongue.
Say what you will about the Noble houses on the ground; at least they maintained a certain sense of decorum that was otherwise absent throughout the rest of society. It was refreshing to see, honestly.
“What do you think?”
“It’s very smooth…but has some citrus to it. The fruitiness shows through…as do some floral notes,” he answered. “’This from the Southern Isles?”
Corvus raised an eyebrow. The teenager seemed more at ease with his focus diverted to the drink in his hand.
“Ahh, yes, actually. One of the teams brought it back with them as a gift from the locals after a particularly intense trash beast attack.”
“It’s good. Doesn’t even need any sugar.”
“You know your coffee,” Corvus observed. That was a surprisingly complex review coming from a fifteen-year-old.
“Thank you, sir,” Zanka responded quickly and Corvus shot him a look.
“Stop calling me sir. It’s just ‘Corvus.’ Please.”
The youngest Nijiku frowned softly but nodded, processing. “Yes, si— Corvus.”
The boss nodded. “How do you know so much about coffee?”
“We had it every mornin’ back home. Mother was obsessed with it,” Zanka explained, as if coffee wasn’t a delicacy meant to be savored on only the most special occasions. “I’m more of a tea drinker myself.”
“Is that so…?”
Tea was even rarer. It was odd to see it brought up so casually as something that you can have a preference for.
“Kyouka is addicted to matcha, but I never understood the hype,” Zanka continued. “I’m more partial ta jasmine myself.”
It was even odder to hear the beverage preferences of the Commander of Hell Guard Squad One discussed so casually. Maybe next time he’ll make sure to have some matcha on hand, just in case the conversation gets unruly.
“I happen to have some, actually,” Corvus smiled. “It’s also a favorite of mine.”
He got up and walked over to one of his bookshelves. Amongst the many books he had collected over the years was a shelf dedicated to a well-cared-for tea set and a few metal jars of teas from various regions around the Ground. It was a modest but nevertheless meticulously sourced collection.
“Would you like to try it?”
The Nijiku nodded, his eyes falling on the collection of teas with interest. “Yes…please.”
The leader of HQ picked up the teapot and his tea of choice and brought it over to his desk, where he switched on his water boiler to heat up whatever water was still left in it. A quiet stillness fell over the room as Corvus became absorbed in the ritual of tea preparation. Zanka watched him silently. He felt the Nijiku’s intense blue eyes on his every movement.
“Interesting,” the Nijiku remarked. “I haven’t seen it done that way before.”
“What way do you mean?” he inquired. Suddenly he felt a bit self-conscious.
“For jasmine tea that comes in pearls, I was taught that you usually discard the first pour. It helps to open up the leaves. The second pour is the one you drink.”
“Hmm,” Corvus acknowledged. “That may certainly be the case in high society. But we can’t afford to waste water here.”
“It’s not a waste—” the Nijiku started to argue but cut himself off, as if he suddenly remembered where he was and who he was talking to. His face flushed pink and he bit his lip self-consciously.
Corvus couldn’t help himself. He laughed.
Zanka stared up at him in confusion.
“I’m sure you know far more about tea than I ever could. I can’t argue with your expertise,” he poured each of them a cup. “But we do the best we can here at HQ. Apologies it isn’t quite up to your standards.”
“It’s—It’s not that—” the teen sputtered, his face going even more red.
“I’m just giving you a hard time,” the boss smiled. His face softened. “I’m sure being here is quite the adjustment for you.”
He handed the teacup to the Nijiku who took it with a meek ‘thank you.’
They both took a sip and savored the taste for a moment. Corvus watched as a soft smile appeared on the newly minted Giver’s face. It was the first genuine emotion he observed from the kid.
“It’s good,” Zanka bowed his head softly in appreciation. “Thank ya for sharing your tea with me.”
“My pleasure.”
The Nijiku upbringing clearly showed through via the formal way that Zanka carried himself (and through his unusually sophisticated tastes) but the arrogance he expected from him was entirely absent. When Enjin first brough the teenager back to HQ, he was anticipating a miniature version of Kyouka or Goka Nijiku: all pompous attitudes and snide remarks that had no business at the Cleaners. He didn’t expect the polite and intelligent young man sitting on his couch, enjoying the subtle floral notes of jasmine tea that he offered him. It was disarming.
He took another sip of his tea while his mind wandered to the list of injuries he read on Zanka’s medical report from a few days ago:
‘Broken wrist, two broken ribs, a partially collapsed lung, a black eye, and extensive blunt trauma across the entire body. Trauma consistent with violent physical assault.’
And unlike the majority of the injuries treated at the base, it wasn’t caused by a trash beast attack. He watched Zanka stare softly at the teacup in his hands before taking another appreciative sip.
Disinherited.
He couldn’t help but feel a tinge of sympathy for the young Giver and a disdain for his short-sighted family. Enjin insisted that the boy had potential. If that was the case, then it was their loss in the end.
But he was nothing if not practical. If they were going to take in a Nijiku, there had to be some benefit to justify the risk.
The Hell Guard were equally obsessed with figuring out the relationship between the Ground and the Sphere, and the Nijikus were at the forefront of that research. It was a bit of a longshot, Zanka was not exactly high up on the totem pole when it came to the family hierarchy, but it was still worth a try. Maybe he might know more than he let on.
“Tell me, Zanka,” the older Giver broke the silence. “Did the Hell Guard Academy teach you history?”
“Yes, sir—" the former Hell Guard recruit started replying but stopped when he noticed the look on the leader’s face. “I mean…yes, Corvus. Why do you ask?”
“You see, I’m quite interested in history,” the leader of HQ remarked, gesturing to the library of books surrounding them. “I find it quite fascinating.”
Zanka looked around, taking in the sight of the bookshelves that lined the walls. Eventually his eyes settled on the massive landscape painting that hung on the wall. It was a depiction of the Ground, but it was old. Quite old. The geological formations were familiar but the foliage that covered it was not— it was as if it depicted some extinct forest that had long since disappeared.
“How much do you know about the history of the Ground?” the leader of Cleaners HQ asked with genuine curiosity.
“The academy only taught tha basics: the past eighty years, give er take. I learned the rest from my family’s library.”
At that, Covus’s ears perked up. The rest of it?
“How far back?”
“Ahhh…” Zanka stared up at the ceiling, trying to remember. “The books went back ta when the Sphere separated from the Ground…So, ‘round 150 years?”
Very interesting indeed.
“I don’t suppose you recall what those books said about the initial period just after the separation…of how the Ground was organized from the chaos that remained?”
“’Course I do,” Zanka replied quickly, the telltale Nijiku arrogance making itself known. “My family was at the forefront of tha’ effort. Without the intervention of my predecessors, the Ground woulda fallen into anarchy.”
“Is that what they taught you?”
Zanka paused, taken aback. “Are ya sayin’ that’s not the truth?”
“The truth depends on who’s telling it. History is written by the victors, after all,” Corvus stated. “But I’d like to hear about it, about how you were taught. I want to see if it differs from the accounts I have read.”
“Mhm…” the youngest Nijiku took another sip of tea, pondering this.
Smart kid. Knowledge is power on the Ground. The Nijiku’s library, and the intel contained within it, was a source of power for the family. Asking for that intel was not a simple request.
Where do your loyalties lie, Nijiku?
“I suppose I can tell ya what I know,” the boy finally replied, looking up at him with keen blue eyes.
“By all means,” the older Giver nodded. “I would love to hear it.”
When Enjin returned half an hour later, that was how he found them: engrossed in discussing the nuances of historical accounts of the Early Separation Period. The two of them barely registered that the Akuta leader returned.
“—Ahhh hate to interrupt you nerds,” the Akuta leader cut in, clearing his throat to make his presence known. “But it’s dinner time. And Riyo said she won’t eat if the new recruit didn’t join, so…wrap it up.”
Corvus leaned back on the couch, finishing the rest of his tea which had gone cold in the meantime. Zanka stood up awkwardly, leaving his cup on the table in front of him. He looked like he was about to say something, but hesitated.
“We’ll continue this some other time,” Corvus told him, nodding gently.
Zanka nodded and started to bow as a show of gratitude, but Enjin stopped him right away.
“Don’t ever bow like that ever again,” he advised, giving the Nijiku a grim look. “Otherwise the boss man will kick you out of the Cleaners for sure.”
The kid looked up at the blond in horror. Corvus couldn’t help but chuckle from across the room.
“Don’t listen to him, Zanka,” he reassured him. “He’s joking.”
The Nijiku didn’t seem so sure. He bowed his head gently instead.
“Thank you, Corvus, for the tea.”
“Any time.” The boss of HQ closed his eyes and bowed his head in return. “Thank you for the conversation.”
Enjin rolled his eyes and motioned for the younger Cleaner to hurry it up. Zanka paused at the doorway and looked back at the leader of HQ for a quick second. A soft smile graced the Nijiku’s lips before he headed out the door.
Enjin hung back, waiting for the kid to leave down the hallway before turning back to his boss with a grin.
“I knew you’d like him.”
Corvus rolled his eyes. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against his desk with a sigh.
Yes, the teenager was clearly spoiled. And yes he was a Nijiku. Yes, that was still a problem. But…he found himself genuinely enjoying the conversation. Plus…he actually appreciated the finer things in life, unlike the majority of their recruits. It was actually refreshing to spend time with someone who could talk about history and tea and knew where coffee was sourced from…
Okay, maybe he did like him. A little.
His mind once again shifted back to the medical report from a few days ago. [‘Broken wrist, two broken ribs, a partially collapsed lung…’]
And if his family ever came around asking for their youngest back, he’ll probably tell them to go fight a trash beast.
“I’m assigning him to your team, Enjin. I think he’ll do well in Akuta,” he acquiesced.
Enjin grinned even wider, if that was even possible.
“Keep an eye on him,” he warned. Keep him safe.
“Will do, boss.”
Corvus watched him leave. His attention turned towards the empty cups of tea sitting on the table. He forgot how good this jasmine tea was. He’ll have to make it more often.
And maybe, he’ll invite Zanka over again for a cup.