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Enjin feels like a teenager when he thinks of this, but he literally feels his heart jump out of his chest when he sees who's finally visiting him.
It's only been two days, but if anyone asks Enjin, he will say, it's been forever since the last time he saw Zanka.
He knows Zanka is alright, Goka spent a good hour mocking and humiliating his own brother, that if Enjin didn't lose that much blood and literally in the brink of passing out, he wouldn't hesitate to lunge at him.
But hearing about Zanka's whereabouts is different than actually seeing him, entering his room.
Zanka does look okay. Very heavy emphasis on the word look.
Because, to the trained eyes and those who have known him, Zanka definitely doesn't.
"Enjin," Zanka breathes out, a surge of relief washes over his face, briefly wiping out anything that Enjin has seen.
Enjin grins, it feels good to do that, with the intention of expressing his happiness. Lately, he only does it, to the nurse and the doctor, and apparently everyone in the South Ward is allergic to his charm.
"Heya, Zanzan," Enjin is glad, he doesn't have his heart monitored, because he's sure as hell, the machine will be madly beeping.
Enjin feels like a teenager when he thinks of this, but he literally feels his heart jump out of his chest when he sees who's finally visiting him.
It's only been two days, but if anyone asks Enjin, he will say, it's been forever since the last time he saw Zanka.
Enjin probably will never admit it out loud, but damn him, if he doesn't feel the wave of longing hitting him on his face.
He doesn't even know if it was possible, missing someone this much. The way Enjin can vividly picture Zanka's azure eyes, Zanka's hard-earned smile, Zanka's slightly disheveled ash-hair, Zanka's blue tassels—even when he's asleep.
Enjin doesn't want to sound whipped, but he doesn't even know how to justify this.
He has bigger things to worry about, bigger problems that await, and yet, every time he looks at the baby blue uniform of the nurse, the darker blue scrub of the doctor; his mind always goes to Zanka.
Goka says, Zanka 'has fallen so far, he should be ashamed of carrying Nijiku's name when he emerges from the battle losing' but he also indicates that Eishia somehow 'has saved his life and what's left of his pride and dignity.'
Whatever that means.
"How are you feeling?" Zanka pulls a chair nearby to sit next to his bed.
Enjin shouldn't have, but he feels slightly irritated that they aren't as close as Enjin hopes for. He doesn't know if it's intentional or not, but it feels like Zanka put some distance between them.
The thought is so ridiculous that Enjin pushes it down almost immediately.
He tries not to frown and just enjoys the fact that Zanka is here, with him.
"Miserable," Enjin pouts exaggeratedly. "They took away my cigarettes."
Zanka shakes his head. "You know, you're not allowed to smoke in the hospital, right?"
Enjin responds with a loud groan. "How am I supposed to relax then? I can only think clearly when I have my beloved nicotine."
The younger gives him a look.
"You're not supposed to think, you're supposed to rest, Enjin," Zanka says. "You're here to recover and I'm pretty sure the hospital policy of not having a smoker in the room is within reasons and doesn't specifically to demonize you," with the way Zanka chides him, Enjin sometimes thinks that their ages swapped somehow and he's not the one who's older by eleven years from Zanka.
Enjin huffs.
"After everything that happens, don't we all deserve a little break? Some little treats for our win?"
That something, again.
Flashes over Zanka's face,
Zanka has mastered the act of pretending, that he quickly schools himself to much more natural expression.
Which fools no one.
Enjin is always so perceptive when it comes to Zanka that he doesn't need to do a double take.
And Enjin, sure as hell, doesn't beat around the bush.
"What is it?"
Enjin swears he sees Zanka flinch at the question.
"Nothing," even the lies convince no one.
Enjin inhales, before he stretches his arm in Zanka's direction. He offers his open palm, getting Zanka frown in return.
"Zanka."
Only his name, said in a very specific tone that Zanka hesitatingly complies. He pulls his chair closer to the bed before he takes Enjin's hand.
Zanka's fingers are dainty, but calloused. Soft but rough on the edges. Small but sometimes feels bigger and warmer than any furnace.
Enjin is quick to intertwine, absorbing the mere comfort of having him so close.
Only when Enjin squeezes, Zanka seems too tense to squeeze back.
"You know, you can tell me everything, right, Zanka?" Enjin opts for rubbing his thumb over Zanka's skin, hoping the gesture is appreciated as his invitation to be vulnerable.
Zanka squeezes back, before he mutters, looking down at their hands.
"It's stupid."
The self-hatred always starts that way. Dismissing his own feelings, disregarding any emotions that aren't beneficial, surrendering the ugly side of everything.
Enjin's heart breaks a little, every single time.
"It's not stupid if it weighs your mind," Enjin says, before he attempts to lift himself with one arm.
For someone who holds the Umbreaker in all its glory, Enjin is somehow having trouble slid up without pulling his hand off of Zanka's.
"Help me up," Enjin pants, the little stunt apparently needs a great amount of energy. His wound throbs with every second of the action.
"You're not supposed to do that," Zanka scolds him, trying to pull his hand back, but Enjin's hold is inescapable. So, he does his best to jump into motion and stop him by his chest, pushing his body back to the mattress. "You should lay down. The nurse told me that—"
Enjin, however sees this coming.
The moment Zanka puts himself in the desired proximity with him, Enjin wraps his arm around his shoulder, pulling the younger to fall on his chest.
It would be much, much, much better if Zanka just accepts the fate instead of struggling and wiggling out of surprise.
Enjin hisses in pain, but he doesn't let go.
If this is the price he gotta pay, then he'll pay it in cash.
For Zanka's sake.
"Enjin, you—" Zanka starts, but Enjin only cradles his head, forcing him to stay down. It's an incredibly awkward position, it causes discomfort to everyone; but Enjin needs to make Zanka understand.
"If you're afraid that someone might hear, you can whisper it to me," Enjin inhales, and he can feel Zanka's weight on his chest, a real proof that he's here with him. "I can hear you alright, here."
Enjin caresses the side of Zanka's head, fingers slipping between the ash-colored strands.
If it wasn't for the wound on his neck, he would just guide Zanka settle in the crook of his neck. He doesn't, but as he stares at the abstract patterns on the ceilings, he hopes that the sound of his heartbeat can act like a comforting rhythm for Zanka.
"I failed," Zanka mumbles, almost lost against Enjin's skin. "I failed again."
Enjin doesn't immediately answer, for a moment, he lets the silence fill the gaps between them, as he approaches slowly.
"How so?"
If it wasn't for the wound on his neck, he would lean down and plant kisses on the crown of Zanka's head, on his forehead, on his eyebrows, on the hair that falls upon them.
He doesn't, but as his hand combs through Zanka's hair, he hopes that the action can transpire the comfort he always wants for Zanka to have.
Zanka is silent again for a while, Enjin doesn't push him to speak.
"I was hurt so badly," Enjin tenses at that, remembering Goka's words before. Zanka notices his reaction and he is quick to reassure. "I'm okay now, Eishia manages to heal me."
He takes a deep breath before continuing, leaning to Enjin.
"But Goka is the one who found me, when Mymo took me down. He was the one who brought me to Eishia, and I know his expectations are low but of course, I just made it worse—" Zanka clears his throat. "Anyway, we also happen to cross paths with someone from the Academy. I don't know what she's doing here, but seeing her again, it reminds me of those days."
Enjin tightens his hold on Zanka.
Those days.
Zanka doesn't like to talk about those days, but Enjin knows those days are the worst time in Zanka's life.
The constant pressure, the burden of having to stay equal with your siblings, the perpetual needs to prove yourself and hating yourself when you can't fulfill that expectation; it used to be his routine.
Zanka may not experience oppression like anyone else in the Ground, but he has his own battle to go through.
When Enjin first took him under wings, he only had one promise to make: never make Zanka feel worthless for trying and for failing.
Because that happens.
And it sucks, sure, but it doesn't define someone and cancel every growth they have made.
"Zanka," Enjin starts, squeezing their joined hands which have been crushed by Zanka's weight. "Do you know, that you have grown so much since we met?"
Enjin immediately recognizes the irony and chuckles.
"And I'm not talking about your age, I'm talking about how you constantly try to be the very best version of yourself, how you relentlessly attempt to fix every mistakes you made, how you never once surrender into acceptance when something doesn't go in your way," Enjin can feel Zanka's lips moving against chest, as if he prepares himself to contradict. Enjin precedes him. "It's sad that Goka can't see past the older version of you, but it's never your fault if he can't recognize your growth."
Zanka sighs.
"I don't even say this as your mentor. I say this as a fellow Cleaner who has worked with you and fought alongside you, but I won't trust any other Cleaner to be my partner if they aren't capable of learning and growing," Enjin smiles, even if Zanka can't see him. "And people will tell me, I am biased, but honestly, even as your mentor, you're not becoming my favorite without reason. You're a great example of someone who always continues to be better and better. And some defeat won't take away all the wins you have achieved."
Zanka lets Enjin cradle his head, caressing him, hands finding themselves lost in the ash-colored strands.
They spend a good while to stay like that, just Zanka absorbing the comfort of Enjin's touch and Enjin's words; and Enjin gladly does so without saying much.
When Zanka eventually pulls back, Enjin lets him go.
The younger doesn't go far, though.
He still leans on his chest, looking up to him. Enjin can see the corner of his eyes prickled with tears, and even it breaks his heart to see that, Enjin goes to wipe them with his thumb, secretly hoping that it will relieve him from all the burden he shouldn't have to carry.
Zanka casts his gaze down, when Enjin's thumb rubs against his cheekbone.
Enjin won't have it.
"Zanka," he slowly tips Zanka's chin, returning his eyes on him. The azures are glassy and Enjin wants nothing more than erase all the pain and misery reflected on them.
"I don't think, I've said it as much as I'd like, but, you do know, that I'm so damn proud of you, right?"
The color on Zanka's cheek deepens and Enjin has to hold himself back from pulling the younger closer only to get the color turns in much darker shade.
It takes a moment before Zanka mumbles, "yeah, I know."
And it's all Enjin needs to hear, it's all Enjin needs to know.
That Zanka knows, even if his own family won't recognize him, Enjin will always hold him high in his heart and his mind.
"Good," Enjin whispers, doesn't need much coaxing when Enjin guides Zanka to close the gaps between them.
Enjin feels like a teenager when he thinks of this, but he literally feels his heart jump out of his chest when he's finally able to press his lips against the younger's.
It's only been two days, but if anyone asks Enjin, he will say, it's been forever since the last time he kissed Zanka.
This feels rather new, still chaste, still tender; but it's so much more intimate, in a way that it's colored with vulnerability, surrender, and trust.
Enjin doesn't rush, when he opens his mouth, he lets Zanka decide the pace, lets Zanka take what's offered to him.
Enjin gives all of him for Zanka to claim.
Zanka starts slow, always hesitates to go further, but Enjin holds him close, holds him still within the non-existent distance.
It takes a moment for Zanka to eventually sigh into Enjin's mouth and deepen the kiss.
Enjin does his best to whisper words he can't articulate yet, through every touch of their lips.
I can't imagine seeing you and not loving you for who you are.
I can't imagine knowing you and not loving you for who you have become.
I can't simply imagine not loving you.
When they part, Enjin can tell that Zanka is reluctant to pull back, so he indulges himself and pulls him in once more.
Enjin can't help the smile that blooms on his lips when even one more touch doesn't seem enough for Zanka.
"You should rest," Zanka begrudgingly tells him.
Enjin gives him one last peck for a good measure, chuckling lightly when Zanka shifts and his lips ends up on the tip of Zanka's nose.
They both share a good moment of amused laughs.
"Stay?" Enjin selfishly asks when the laughter reduces, before Zanka can even think of leaving.
Turns out, Zanka doesn't even seem to think twice before agreeing. "Of course."
He pulls the chair even closer, resting himself on the side of Enjin's bed, as Enjin keeps him near. Their hands stay tangled with each other.
Enjin feels like a teenager when he thinks of this, but what can he say?
Being with Zanka always revitalizes him.
"Disgusts me, fraternizing with a Cleaner. We should have never taken him in."
"Let them."
"But, Nee-san—"
"For now. Don't ever think, this won't go without consequences. That seducing charlatan will pay for tainting our dear little brother."