Work Text:
As far as he could remember, Zanka admired anyone with beautiful hair.
When he was a small boy, his sister kept her fire velvet red hair long, flowing behind her as she walked with such confidence.It was long and luxurious even if she proclaimed that she barely took care of it, putting it in a secure bun or a high ponytail, and he remembered asking himself why she didn't cut it until they were both older.
It was engraved in his young brain, with such beautiful locks, anyone would be stunning no matter what they looked like. So it wasn't a surprise when he first wanted to let his own hair grow as soon as he had a choice over his own appearance.
He of course was careful about the practicality of it when he trained but one of his guilty pleasures was being able to finally let it down after a hard day, the soft and well kept streaks brushing his cheeks when he would lay down on his bed.
He could see some staring at him for way too long when he started puberty, but couldn't guess why until later; it was normal for him to look in pictures and recognise himself so easily, the other boys being mostly shaved or keeping it short at least while his own blonde and brunette started to touch his shoulders in class photos.
The first time he got taken aback by a comment on it was at twelve years old.
He heard a lot that he looked like his sister way more than anyone else, their sharp features matching almost perfectly, but he only nodded and thanked until that day.
He was walking somewhere; he didn't remember where, but he was alone in the city. He felt someone tap him gently on the shoulder, a small wrinkled hand "Excuse me young lady?" A shaky and old but gentle voice asked.
Zanka thought for a second that it wasn't for him, that the person calling was not the same as the one with the hand on him, but he turned around anyway and got confused: it definitely was this woman who called him.
He should have asked her if she needed help, that's what he was taught to, but was too dumbfounded that he could form a sentence. His mouth opened and closed while searching for words and his face scrunched up slightly in confusion, careful to not seem rude. The elderly woman took his silence as an occasion to speak.
"Would you mind giving me the direction for the pharmacy?"
Her soft smile reached her eyes as she explained. A few seconds passed as Zanka tried to connect her words together, and stuttered.
"Ah-of course!" His hand instinctively tried to reach his neck in embarrassment but he instead tried to point in a direction. "Down this street, you'll need to turn right." They both looked afar. "It will be on your right madam." He succeeded in sounding unbothered, but he felt something weird making his fingertips tingle as much as he face burned up without knowing why.
"That is very kind of you, thank you young lady." She smiled again, and the boy forced himself to not furrow his eyebrows. It was so weird, maybe some can mistake him from behind because of his hair, but his face and his voice...
As she began to walk away, leaving him standing there without moving an inch and without knowing why, he suddenly felt self aware. Growing up he thought the similarities in his face with Kyouka was nothing more than an ice breaker for conviviality that would probably change as he would grow up, but only now he realized what it actually meant. And his voice still high at the beginning of his teens confirmed it: he looked like a girl.
He had the speech of "being a man" and "masculinity and honour in the men of the Nijiku family" deeply engraved in his mind, but he was more intrigued than anything else at this moment.
Snapping out of his thoughts at a particularly loud noise that ended up being a heavy wooden box dropping a few feet away, he felt the urge to move after staying still in the middle of the street for so long, the woman now far gone out of his sight in the crowded part of the city.
He started speed walking wherever he needed to be (at least away from the eyes he started to notice on him) while he looked down with his thoughts back again.
It was like someone had opened a door, but that he didn't know existed. He felt dumb for not thinking about this before, the dots finally aligned, and stopped as he saw his reflection on a showcase of a cute looking store.
He saw himself from a different angle, his hair almost perfect as he always tried so hard to keep it, and his face strangely enlightened. His sharp nose, his lips, his cheekbones, his chin, he saw the similarities and differences as he compared them to first his sister, then without noticing, his classmates, his cousins, his teachers...
And most of all, his eyes. As he caught a glimpse of his own dark blue eyes, he saw a small spark he didn't expect. And he felt pretty. Something so rare from him. He was a boy that spent twelve years of his life hearing about "the role of a man in our family", but surprisingly didn't feel less of himself as he let the thought set in his brain, more comfortably than he would ever admit.
Someone said he was a girl, and it didn't bother him at all.
Then life happened. After that day, he didn't let himself have the time to think more about it, this event shoved somewhere inside his heart.
One of the first things he did when he joined the cleaners was cut his hair.
He didn't know why exactly but it just felt like the right thing to do. He has thought about going to a salon like the last time, when he was still a kid, his scalp handled by a professional he would pay more than any domestic, by he settled on his own scissors.
More exactly, the pair of scissors that was apart of all the necessities waiting in his new room. Disowned, lost, and desperate, he had to do something to be able to let go.
Zanka was still processing everything that happened, now apart of the group he barely met. It was pitch black outside as he sat on his bed and closed his sore eyes, and when he woke up at sunrise, he barely moved an inch for God knows how long.
His whole body felt heavy, and he could hear life outside his thin walls; maybe he should join them like Enjin advised him in the drive home. So with a groan, he pushed himself on his feet but instead of leaving the room, he walked to his bathroom.
Everything was so dusty and morose, like if no one has set a foot inside in years wich was surely the case. The scissors were still on the edge of the sink, next to a glass and his toothbrush, after he used them to cut a piece of fabric from his old clothes. He picked them up with a shaky hands, and looked at himself in the broken dirty mirror.
He looked dead inside, with heavy and puffy red eyes on top of the worst eye bags he had in his entire life. His straight hair has reached the middle of his chest not long ago, and he stopped, not a single though in his mind. It was all worthless, like him, and all these years of care turned to dust and he lost all affection towards it.
Gently grabbing a strand, he placed the blades higher and higher, up to his eyes, and tried to close them in a quick snap, failing. The hair cut stuck between them instead of falling, and Zanka winced at the suddent pain pulling at the roots.
He tried to repeat the motion, opening and closing them, barely working a bit of the strands off, most parts lodged the the base of the tool. Irritated and in pain, he kept on doing it harshly and faster untill what what left stuck could be pulled with a surprising force.
It made a strange noise, a mix of a rip and the echoes of the pulling thought his head resonating, and it was only when the hand holding it in place was detached from anything that he looked back at his reflection.
He didn't feel anything except the relief of the ache yet. His hand opened as the cut strands fell out, some still sticked to his skin with sweat, and he shook them off before reaching to the scissors to unstuck others. "Maybe that was too much" He thought out loud. Taking too much at once, of course he struggled, but cutting his hair wasn't an activity he did daily.
Taking a deep breath in, he reached for some strands again on the opposite side of his head, taking at least twice less. This time it worked, the cutting making a satisfying noise bouncing on the walls of the small bathroom.
It started becoming an automatism, clumps of hair falling, sometimes on his clothes, sometimes inside the sink, but he was too lost to take notice of the mess. He had no idea of what he was doing. He had no idea of the time that has passed. Minutes? Hours? All he could think about was the scissors staring to hurt his fingers and the occasional pain.
When looking in the mirror, he couldn't assimilate the reflect with himself, it was like he was not present. Zanka got surprise as he tried to reach for some more behind his neck, finding only air. He turned his head, searching for something already laying on the floor, the gears in his head slowly clicking. It hit him unexpectedly, a gasp escaping his lips as he dropped the scissors in the sink with a clank.
Zanka couldn't describe his emotions even if his family ordered him, he felt too vague and too strong. He let out a breath he has been holding for way too long, his fingers trembling and clenching around nothing, then the burning in his eyes that has unfortunately became common was too much.
He looked down, observing his precious hair spread everywhere, but without knowing why, he didn't feel an ounce of regret. He reached for the tool again, and taking one final glance at it, he reached for the uneven part on his head to fix them. At the same time, he recognized himself and seemed to be a stranger, he didn't even remember the last time he looked like this!
And a smile creeped on his face, tears drying, and he brushed his hair with his fingers, the blonde mixing with the brown barely brushing at his neck. It was horrendous for sure, but he was happy. He was more free than he ever was, leaving the mess to clean from when he would calm down from his euphoria, carefully checking in the mirror as an excuse to be pleased at the view from every angle.
After cleaning up, wich was more hard and annoying then he would have thought, he dressed himself with the clothes he was offered, and left his room for the first time.
And even years later, he remembered how his first ever interaction with a cleaner was that was not met with tears. How gentle Riyo was as she did a professionally level job as fixing him up that same day. He felt like he owned her something, but as soon as she finished, she said "don't bother, that was friends are for!"
He slowly got used to his new colleagues, his new family, and warmed up to them to the point of being fully comfortable with them not even years after his first gig.
He experienced things he never did before, like comfort after each and every time he failed or a safe space to be himself.
This all led to some of the thoughts he had burried so long ago resurface. His new start was deserved after years of abuse and self hatred, and now that he could finally live his own life without the expectations of being a Nijiku weaving a path that wasn't made for his health, Zanka was happy.
He let his hair grow back again -especially because of how slow the process was- but with Ryo's help, he trusted her to cut it right. Shorter sides he found a liking of, and a mess of strands falling down in every direction looking more like a styled zigzag than pure intention.
He pierced his ears with his friend's help, and waited for the healing process to finish to put his next to be iconic tassels. He, for once, took care of his appearance not because he didn't want to dissapoint anyone, but only because he wanted to fell better in his own body, grooming himself meticulously almost everyday. His friends joked about how much of a "rich kid" he was, earning a half-hearted comment making all of them laugh together at dinners, but in the back of his mind, he just felt good.
One day, he got introduced to a new member of the cleaners, as usual, someone he never seen before. She introduced herself with a smile and the name "Tomme".
Zanka was still in his most comfortable clothes he had put on after waking up only to look presentable in the HQ hallways, his feet automatically leading him to the kitchen were he knew his breakfast could be. It was one of those days he had overslept after pulling all nighters; shitty sleeping schedule, he defenetly had to fix this...
Drowsy, he reached out a hand, yawing the sleep away. It was not polite at all, but at least she could see he was not a stuck up. "Zanka. Nice to meet ya." He looked into her chocolate eyes.
Ah, yes chocolate, that was something he craved at the moment, maybe he could go buy some later. Tomme smiled even wider than she did before, she must have just arrived, and the theory was confirmed as she didn't recognize the name.
They broke eye contact, and Zanka smiled back softly as he brushed his fingers though a strand of the hair on his neck, tangled from the night he tried to fix. There was a silence and Zanka only now noticed that she was alone with him, the person that was accompagating her must have left discreetly to let them interact peacefully (if it was not for the simple fact that everyone started gathering in the dinner room).
He got lost in his thoughts while Tomme felt embarrassed at the silence. She spoke up, trying to continue the conversation.
"I haven't seen a lot of girls around!" She said in a cheerfull tone, but not adding any comment, careful of her new teammate's reaction.
Zanka was intrigued by the statement and answered in a confused tone
"yeah, you're right, their're not a lot of girls in the cleaners." He tried to land a joke "But Riyo can make it up all by herself!"
Tomme chuckled but he couldn't figure if it was only to be polite or if she understood. But knowing the redhead, and knowing the social butterfly she was, he wouldn't be surprised if she already met or at least saw her personality from afar.
A silence creepy up between them again. Zanka felt like it was enough, he was usually in a bad mood at mornings and he hid it to the point of wanting to end the interaction.
"Semiu will show you around if she didn't already do it. I'll be with the other for breakfast." He pointed towards his direction and started to walk.
The newbie did a small wave with her hand, and right before he turned away, she said
"Glad I met another girl!"
It took a few seconds from Zanka to process her words, walking away as his tired brain connected them together. He turned around in shock, but she already left, leaving him alone in the hallway, looking like an idiot as the same scene he remembered from so long ago was like a deja Vu.
The day has passed somehow normally, even if the conversation kept playing on repeat inside his mind.
He was comfortable with the cleaners, he could be himself. And that night, laying on his bed and looking at his lovely assistaf against his wall, he accepted something he always felt.
It was not like a mind blowing realization or a life changing event that all unfolded at once, it was more like someone told him something about himself that he never noticed before. The same process in his brain as that time when Enjin told him he smelled like incense no matter where he was, or Semiu pointing out that his favorite tea was made with leaves of a tree he rested against when he was small... An informations that always hands been here, but he didn't look out for it until someone told him about.
Wich was weird, because when he started to imagine his friends calling him anything else than a man, or a "he", he didn't fell anger or disgust like so many people told him about. It juts felt right, like a puzzle piece falling into place.
The next day, he beelined to the dining room, his stomach growling after skipping last night's dinner, and picked up his breakfast. He started to look for a free seat (and maybe his friends) as he rolled his shoulders back.
From the other side of the room, Riyo called his name and waved when he turned his head to her, telling him, to join the table. Next to her were two supporters he wasn't close with, Gris and Enjin (of course next to each other) and Tomme.
He walked up to them, greeting them with a weak "good morning guys" and sat down.
"Tomme has something to tell you." Riyo says before anyone can anwser back.
Her damn straightforwardness, it was like she intentionally tried to piss him off sometimes...
Zanka looked at the girl in question, seemingly embarrassed as she looked away.
"Yeah..." Tomme tried to speak but she got quiet and redder as she tried to form a sentence.
Enjin tried so hard not to laugh, and Gris was eye siding him to not. Zanka took a first bite, and asked with a bit of worry
"What? Something happened?" The older blonde crackled up before laughing so hard he curled up, a full blown belly laugh accompagnanted by some others, including Tomme's nervous one.
It was started to get on the boy's nerves, rolling his eyes
"Okay, what the hell happened?" He blunted out.
Enjin almost shouted between the laughs
"Tomme though you were a chick!" He then wheezed so hard that even Gris started chuckling too.
"Ah yeah, I know" Zanka looked back at his food like he was telling the weather.
It took them by surprise.
"I heard you yesterday." He looked at the wide eyed girl.
She bit her lip "sorry."
Riyo had a snug smile when she looked straight into his soul
"You should have seen her face when we told her." She shrugged "At least she said only good things after the first impression."
Zanka looked back at Tomme, the red in her cheeks calming down as she drank some juice. He waited for the others to calm down, finishing his breakfast and cracking his fingers for the first time of the day.
"I don't care" He added.
It was the occasion to speak up, but the multiple pair of eyes on him in silence at the table made him regret opening his mouth for a moment.
He looked down his hands resting on it, as he inhaled and tried to not look tense
"It's fine if you call me that. Or anything else really." He was speaking faster then he wanted and heard the ruffles of clothes as Ryo and Gris tried to catch everything by moving closer to his voice.
The man spoke up at his silence
"What are you saying?" Zanka thought that he was mad, tensing up, glaze stuck to the table, and Gris noticed it. "It's okay, you're just kinda loosing me here Zanka."
His reassuring smile could be heard in his soft tone, and a couples of "hum hum" in agreement escaped multiple throats.
The teenager took a deep breath, raising his head but looking somewhere away at the other side of the room as he put his hand to the back of his neck and forced a smile.
"I'm just saying I don't mind if y'all call me a girl or I dunno... I'm fine with everything." His tension was slowly leaving his shoulders as he dragged the last words.
There was a silence. A long silence.
"Zanka are you..." Enjin was searching for the word.
Gris whispered it to him loud enough for everyone to hear but Ending said it anyway.
"Transforming?" Gris sniggered and hid it in his fist as Engine looked back at him, confused.
Ryo deadpanned them from the opposite side of the table
"transitioning."
Gris retorted "That's what I told him!" She sighted and took Zanka's hand, frozen trying to understand the scene unfolding infront of him.
"Are you trans?" She asked with not an ounce of malice. Zanka answered immediately
"No! herm... Yes? I don't know?"
She opened her mouth to say something but got cut off
"I don't think so, I'm still..." He wanted to say "a man" but the doubt caught him at his throat "You can call me everything." He settled on the formulation that felt the closet of his experience.
Ryo looked at the other cleaners across the table to make sure everyone was listening before saying
"do you want to be called everything?" Zanka nodded, one time, then two times, then smiled.
"That would be great. Thank you."
It was the closest he had felt with them ever since he became a part of the family.
They had shown him so many times he could trust them, yet it was only at this precise moment, being so vulnerable while they listened, that he truly felt what they meant by being welcome.
Nothing really changed after that.
He was still the same, and if not for the way they called him, it could be like all of this never happened, wich was great.
Ryo got used to it very easily, calling him over with a "hey giiiirl!" And he heard from her multiple times complimenting him behind his back to other cleaners saying things like "Zanka? Yeah, they're my friend, I'll introduce you to them the second they come back".
It made his heart flutter everytime without a fail.
Gris and the others tried their best to use other pronounces more frequently and Enjin even complimented him in different ways then before, and if he though he was a sucker for compliments he defenetely was even more now.
Sometimes, the old habits slipped out, but they always corrected themselves even when Zanka felt they didn't particularly need to, making him feel seen and appreciated in ways he never felt before.
One time, in the car after an easy mission, everyone except Gris, the driver, was sleeping.
Out of nowhere, from the backseat, with Ryo leant against his shoulder, he asked
"Why did you accept me so fast?" The driver hummed in confusion, looking in the rearview at him.
Zanka stammered for his words
"the-the gender th-"
"yeah"
"yeah".
Zanka looked back at him in the mirror and saw a smile forming at the corner of his lips
"We care about each other that's all. And besides..." He huffed "it would be the height for any of us to not respect that."
Zanka spent the rest of the drive home trying to make sense of what he said.