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Follo’s fingers curl, then dig into the cool stone of the barricade, utterly entranced by the Cleaner outside fighting a Trash Beast.
No, more than that, he’s a Giver and decimating the fight. He’s got this staff he’s catapulting himself with to stab into and quickly defeat the Trash Beast like it’s an extension of his own body, like it’s nothing.
Who’s that…?
For a moment, Follo mistook him for his old friend. He steps back, somehow stunned. It wasn’t him.
No, he thinks, of course it wasn’t him. He had only assumed. Jumped to conclusions. He doesn’t even know what he expected to see.
The truth is—whatever Alan’s doing now, Follo wants to know but can hardly bear the thought of it.
If Alan has spent their time apart getting even farther ahead of Follo, it would only prove the disparity between them as one too large for Follo to ever catch up. He would be forced to see just how much Alan is better than him.
Without him around, Follo hasn’t had to think of bad things like that. He’s grown comfortable with stagnation and totally reliant on the relief of not knowing.
But hee always tried encouraging him when they were children. Follo won’t be able to change anything just sitting around.
He wants to be better—he wants to be better than him!
The walk to Alan’s house errs more on the side of achingly nostalgic rather than familiar after all these years. The guy’s parents will know where he is.
His fist raps against the front door and Alan’s dad answers.
“Excuse me, is Alan here?”
The man’s eyes are sad, Follo notices. More than they ever were before. Follo wonders what sort of trouble Alan’s gotten himself into this time.
“Yes, and you’re… friends? I remember, you’re–”
“Follo, sir.”
“Follo,” he accepts. “Alana’s friend.”
Follo winces.
“I need to see–oh, yeah.”
Alan’s dad allows him in, but Follo’s head is already spinning, from worse than just nerves before the confrontation.
Alan never told his dad. He still calls him that.
Follo and Alan were always different from other people in the same ways. They both desired joining the Cleaners as Givers. When Follo first cut his hair, short and choppy, he only found the guts to do it from Alan, who had done the same, shorter and choppier.
Follo reaches Alan’s room, desperately pushing the door open before crushingly wishing he never came at all.
All this time, he’s been afraid to find Alan too far ahead.
Alan’s room has had a hurricane of depression blown through it and no one to pick up the pieces. Trash bags and take-out containers and poorly concealed empty bottles are strewn all over the floor, Alan curled up miserably in bed at the very center of it all.
Follo’s never seen anyone so far behind.
“Go away, Follo. I’m done with all this.”
Alan’s hair is so long.
”When you’re just part of the faceless mob, you’ll never be a Giver no matter how hard you try. It’s just a thing, and I’m just a random nobody.” Alan’s voice is raspy from disuse, and he’s obviously given up his practiced way of speaking deeper.
Follo’s eyes drop onto Alan’s hammer just as his heart drops like a rock.
”I can care about it all I want, but there’s no way it will ever respond.”
He can’t breathe.
”…The spark in your eyes when you glared at me… It made me feel like I was falling behind…” Alan’s starting to tremble. “I got away from you, but I still wasn’t free from you…! Follo. When are you gonna stop tagging along after me?”
Follo eventually finds the words for it, what Alan is. Giving up. No, more than that, he gave up a long time ago. It was just Follo who allowed his fears to keep him from ever seeing it for himself.
”Go be a Cleaner by yourself, for all I care. Take that piece of junk with you. And, get lost.”
Finally, Follo has something new to be afraid of.
And it’s the most scared he’s been in his life.
He picks the hammer up off the floor and dashes out of Alan’s room. He runs as fast as he can and doesn’t care about anything less than reaching the Cleaners before they can leave him behind.
There’s three of them, two older, and then the rookie with the staff who Follo got to watch defeat that Trash Beast earlier. They’re at a cafe, though none of them seem to be eating. That’s alright, Follo knows how to do that well. He can become a Cleaner and later a Giver, and he will never be anything like him.
“Excuse me!! I’ll do odd jobs, I’ll do anything…!!” He’s shaking worse than Alan was. “So please… Please let me be in the Cleaners!!”
He only wants to be nothing like that guy.
()
“Are you a Giver?” Enjin asks him, driving like a madman.
“No,” Follo admits. “But–I’m good for other things.”
“No shame in that,” Gris reassures. He’s a Supporter, one of the Cleaners who fights alongside the Givers without a Vital Instrument of his own. He’s got this crazy grip strength he used when he shook Follo’s hand and promised to see what they could do for him.
Zanka’s the name of the rookie who rocked that Trash Beast’s shit. He doesn’t seem to like Follo much, hasn’t looked at him beyond an initial sizing him up, just watching out the window despite them sitting next to each other in the car. Follo doesn’t hold it against him. He’s probably tired from fighting.
Follo turns to Zanka, an easy smile on his lips.
“I saw you fighting that Trash Beast earlier, it was great,” he praises.
That gets Zanka’s attention, but the excitement in his eyes is extinguished quickly.
“It was nothin’.”
“It was nothing?!”
“It was all my Lovely Assistaff.”
“Of course it was easy work, between Zanka’s skill with his Vital Instrument, and my tutelage,” Enjin boasts.
Zanka turns back towards the window, shoulders hunched and shaking slightly.
“You’re barely trained him!” Gris insists.
“Of course I have!”
Follo waits for Zanka to turn back around. When he does, he seems to have warmed up to him and appears happy to answer Follo’s heaps of questions pertaining to his Giver abilities.
“You just became a Giver?” Follo gasps after asking how recently Zanka’s gotten his Lovely Assisstaff.
Zanka looks suspicious as if Follo means it negatively.
”What’s it to ya, skuzzball?”
”That’s cool,” Follo says. “Skuzzball?”
Zanka perks back up, preening beneath the showering compliments.
”It’s nothing.”
His smile makes Follo’s heart ease some, the ache around his cold resolve after seeing that at Alan’s house. Zanka doesn’t seem anything like that guy, doesn’t seem like he would ever give up. Follo wants to be his rival instead but keeps it to himself. He wasn’t a very good one the last time. He pushes it down and just smiles back.
They arrive at the Cleaner Headquarters after only two incidents of Enjin’s driving that made Follo think he was going to die, which Gris calls about average.
The woman at the front desk raises her eyebrow at every one of them, Enjin catching the worst of it.
”How was observing the North Ward?” she asks in a deadpan, adjusting her glasses while her measured gaze could burn a hole in Enjin’s face.
Zanka says nothing, but his mussed-up hair from fighting in the wind speaks for itself.
”Zanka’s a full-on Cleaner now!”
”I see.”
Enjin guiltily scratches his cheek before pushing Follo forward.
”This guy wants to be a Cleaner, too. He’s…”
“Follo,” Follo offers.
”Follo,” Enjin confirms.
Semiu’s attention turns onto Follo, and it’s like she’s looking through him. After a moment, she speaks.
”You really want to be a Cleaner.”
Follo’s cheeks flush.
”I do.”
She nods at his pocket. Follo pulls Alan’s hammer out—no, his hammer, for them to look at.
”I want this to be my Vital Instrument,” he explains. “Until then, I’ll do anything.”
Semiu nods at him. She turns to address Enjin.
”Go get Zanka checked out.”
”Eh? Why?” Enjin asks. He turns to Zanka. “Are you hurt?”
Zanka shakes his head furiously.
”Of course not, it was the easiest ever!”
”He hasn’t had a follow-up appointment,” Semiu replies. “Take the other rookie with you, too.”
The other rookie.
Follo’s whole body feels lighter.
”He’s my responsibility?” Enjin asks dumbfoundedly.
Gris plants a firm hand on Follo’s shoulder, like he’s standing next to him on purpose.
“No, he’ll be a Supporter with Tomme and I if anything, am I right?”
Semiu nods and urges them off presumably to return to her magazines.
“Thank you,” Follo manages.
Gris’ hand on his shoulder drops to clap him on the back.
”Don’t thank me yet! You haven’t seen how I train rookies.”
Enjin turns around to wink at Follo, but Follo isn’t even nervous. They’re taking him with them. What really scares him—it’s behind him now, even if just barely. As long as he continues forward, it’ll keep getting farther away. He’s just got to keep moving.
“I work out,” Follo defends. He’s not starting from nothing.
”Think you’d be up to some friendly sparring with Zanka?” Enjin suggests.
“Maybe not that.”
“Zanka’s fresh outta the Hell Guard training Academy,” Gris explains.
”In Kamuatari? You graduated already? How old are you?”
”Sixteen,” Zanka replies. “I dropped out.”
”Oh…”
”To become a Cleaner! I was top’a my class!”
”Oh!” Follo sticks out a fist. Zanka looks confused for a beat but bumps it looking satisfied.
They all slide back into the car, Gris in the front seat this time.
”I thought you didn’t drive?” Follo asks, trying to sound as nonjudgmental as possible.
Enjin turns around in his seat to address him.
”The way he drives… it makes ya fall asleep every time!”
Follo doubts it but doesn’t press so as not to seem rude. He settles into his seat and exchanges a look with Zanka, who seems to share his lack of faith.
”It’ll be fine,” Gris assures, starting to drive.
()
Follo wakes up to Zanka poking his shoulder with his Lovely Assistaff.
He wonders if its actual name is Assistaff, and Zanka simply chooses to often describe it as Lovely. Then he watches how Zanka caresses it and concludes otherwise. Lovely.
“You fell asleep. We’re here.”
“Don’t be embarrassed, he fell asleep too,” Enjin assures him.
“I’m surprised you noticed,” Gris says, “Considering you fell asleep right after.”
“Exactly like I said would happen,” Enjin sighs. “Let’s go see Alice.”
As Follo walks behind the Cleaners, he remembers something potentially important; he’s got no damn clue as to how Cleaners feel about people like him. Medical check-ups typically involve undressing, and Follo’s practiced skill of binding his chest won’t impress anyone if they’ve got a problem with a guy having to bind his chest. He’s got no clue if he’s walking into an assbeating and doesn’t like it.
His fingers curl around his hammer but drops it with a grimace barely a second later. Stupid. There’s no way these weirdos would care, and even less chance he’d stand a chance against even one of them.
Zanka seems to notice something wrong but refrains from saying anything. Follo ducks his head down and walks a little faster, having fallen behind without noticing.
He’s gotta walk beside them to get anywhere.
“Who are these?!” The doctor barks at Enjin.
”My recruit, Zanka, and Gris’ recruit—”
”Follo,” Zanka offers.
Follo chuckles, pleased.
”What’s that about?!”
Follo raises his hands innocently.
”I’m just glad.”
Zanka calms instantly.
”I knew his name that time,” Enjin insists, glaring at Zanka and offering Follo an apologetic look.
Gris gives him a thumbs up which Follo takes to mean it’s true.
”As fast as you can, Alice, we’ve got to bring these two to Corvus,” Enjin adds.
”I work as fast as I need to!”
”Take your time,” Gris amends.
”It’s good you brought them!” Alice says to Enjin. She leans up into Follo’s face. ”Why do you look so pale?!”
”I’ve lived in the North Ward,” Follo explains.
”You’re scared,” she accuses.
Follo waves his hands again.
”No, no, just a… big day.”
”Alright!” Alice decides. She swivels around to Enjin and Gris. “Out!”
The two men follow orders, Gris leaving after a nod to Follo and Enjin after an exaggerated wave to Enjin and another to Alice after leaving the office and poking his head back in. It sounds like Gris dragging him away before the door shuts.
”Alright, you two, strip!”
”Huh?!” Zanka yelps.
”Huh?” Follo falters.
”Sit on the examination table, shirts off!” Alice instructs. “Keep your pants on!” She adds, as though either was considering otherwise.
Follo was sure he had steeled his nerves but, in the moment, finds himself freezing up, pushing his coat off his shoulders as slow as he can manage.
Zanka does not share his worries. Of course he doesn’t. He’s…perfect, apparently. Nothing like Follo.
They sit side-by-side on the examination table evidently meant for one. Zanka is shirtless next to him.
Follo thought he wasn’t scared of anything anymore. With his jacket off, he brings his hands to the base of his shirt, fidgeting with the fabric.
And he meant it! He takes his shirt off, cool air of the room hitting bare skin, chest perfectly bound as always.
Follo risks a peak at the same time Zanka does.
”You too?!”
”You’re like that?!”
“Stop ogling each other!”
Zanka’s got these two identical scars on his chest exactly where Follo wants for himself.
”How?!”
”It was me, of course,” Alice cuts in.
Follo has blessedly never been prone to his cheeks turning red, but they sure feel hot as hell right now.
“Oh…” he groans.
“Take a deep breath in!” Alice demands, cold stethoscope pressed to his back before Follo can even conceptualize processing.
”Sorry,” Follo squeaks.
”Not you who should be apologizing,” Alice replies with a meaningful look at Zanka.
Zanka is different from others in the same way Follo is. He, however, does turn red when he blushes.
Follo is gonna get so far ahead of what he used to dream of.
Alice soon determines Zanka’s scars are healing perfectly. Follo congratulates him and Zanka looks sort of angry, but Follo is pretty sure he’s pleased. Then Alice says Follo is in fine enough shape and might survive Gris’ training if he tries really hard, and Zanka gives him a fist bump, which confirms Zanka’s in a good mood too.
When they’re sent on their way, Follo thinks to speak with Follo while they’re still alone together.
”Do they… know?” Follo asks.
”About me?” Zanka determines the subject matter quickly.
Follo shrugs.
”Only Enjin and Semiu. No one gives half a shit.”
”And Gris?”
Zanka scoffs.
”Ya worried about him?”
Follo had a feeling that would be the response but he’s still glad he asked.
”And, er, could you…”
”Eh?”
”When you first saw me…”
”Eh?”
“Did you, like"
Zanka cuts him off.
”Did I like—what are you tryna say?!”
”Just if you could tell.”
“Oh,” Zanka replies, shoulders slumping with relief for some reason. “I thought you meant if I—no, I couldn't."
Follo is still pleased even while Alice is demanding Enjin and Gris pay her. Zanka’s standing right at his side but not looking at him.
Follo’s gonna get so much better. He’s gonna get everything.