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Zanka is already used to the feeling of restlessness that trails after him throughout the day and into the night, the nagging feeling to constantly be doing something, anything to get stronger. Hellguard training had ensured he functioned on minimal hours of rest in order to maximize time spent training, and as an (ex) member of the Nijiku family the concept had been especially drilled into him.
It was almost habit, at this point; no matter how many months he had spent as one of the Cleaners, he still adhered to his old routines and training schedules, only stopping when missions came up or Riyo and Enjin insisted he join them for some odd adventure in the middle of the week; as much as he tried to refuse them at first, the two were relentless with insisting he come along to buy snacks, explore Canvas Town, or even just sit outside and stare at the clouds for a little while.
And with previous training routines came the sleep schedule – four hours of rest, from midnight to just before the sun came up, no matter what. A tradition Zanka was not planning on breaking.
Enjin had done him a favor, allowing an average like him within the ranks of genius givers and supporters alike, showing him a place within Team Akuta when his family found no use for a codependent failure. He had trusted him, shown him a new path when the previous one had abruptly ended with shouts to leave, and to never return to the estate after his jinki revealed herself.
For this, Zanka would not fail him. He would prove that he deserved a place here, even though he was outclassed in both talent and experience. No matter what.
His day starts with a jolt, a worn-down clock on his bedside beeping a few more times before fizzling out. The face stares at him, angry red lights telling him it was only two in the morning. Zanka’s vision swims, the bedside table blurring slightly in his vision as it splits into three before slowly returning to normal as he massages his temples. Outside, the compound is silent; even Enjin and Gris, who often stayed up later for a smoke and to chat were nowhere to be found, fast asleep in their own rooms. Zanka’s footsteps make a muted thump as he swings them off the bed, shuffling towards the bathroom to take a shower and change into new clothing before starting the day. Lovely Assistaff rests on the wall right next to his closet, and he takes her with him, not willing to be separated for even a momentary bath.
She finds a temporary space next to the sink, held between pipes and plain cement walls. Her mere presence is comforting, almost like sinking into a warm embrace. Zanka stares at himself in the mirror, messy hair and eyebags darker than he remembered before turning on the faucet and splashing the cold water on his face, shocking his body into a state of clarity. The fog over his eyes seems to lift, and his brain gets a little less fuzzy. Awareness finally seems to settle in, washing over him in waves. He wastes no time pulling on a fresh set of robes, before whisking Assistaff off to the training grounds.
Zanka hits the punching bag on the opposite side with a loud crack, extending Assistaff as far as possible in the confines of the room. He had recently figured out how to do so in a recent skirmish against a bull-shaped trash beast, wishing that he could strike from afar and avoid its horns. Assistaff had responded beautifully of course, tripling in size as the synthetic bull rushed towards him again to meet its horns in a crash of metal and sparks.
She always knew what he needed, matching his thoughts and feelings perfectly; and it was Zanka’s job that her potential, her power didn’t go to waste.
(Sometimes, in the dead of night as he tossed and turned on his mattress, he wondered if she would one day leave him too. If Lovely Assistaff decided just as everyone else did that her owner was nothing more than the loser everyone else saw, a strong jinki rebelling against its weaker master. While he knew it was impossible, the thought lingered in the back of his mind, and when Zanka would wake in a cold sweat after dreaming of a world where Assistaff no longer responded to his call he’d pull her all the more closer.
Kyouka was right; Zanka was codependent, far too reliant on his weapon and useless without it.)
The thought only serves to distract him, and he nearly trips before catching himself and gritting his teeth.
There was no time to dwell on these things; what happened was in the past, and try as he might there was no way to change it. The only way left was forward, to prove the chance the Cleaners took on him right and to his family that he could still be strong, Hellguard and Nijiku or not.
Zanka moves, raising his vital instrument as he lunges towards the punching bag like a man starved. The impact causes it to shudder, swinging back and forth. He doesn’t allow it to pause, immediately going in for another strike.
-
Enjin finds his newest stray mentee looking half dead, jinki activated as he pummels a worn out dummy with terrifying accuracy. Assistaff glows a bright blue, matching her owner’s eyes and the two of them dance around the room, a waltz of precision and danger. Enjin can see why he was top of his class in Hellguard training; the way he moved, fluid yet steady enough to withstand a hit was nothing short of talented, despite Zanka’s stark refusal to admit it. He raises a cupped hand to his mouth, calling out to the boy.
“Yo, Zanka, how long have you been at it?”
He pauses then, mid-strike, whipping around to face Enjin like he walked in on Zanka with a dead body rather than caught up in some exercises. “I uh—not too long,” he bites out, looking as if he had been forced to reconsider his words halfway through the sentence.
“Uh-huh,” Enjin nods, scratching his chin. “And I take it you look like shit because…?”
Zanka sputters, caught off guard. “I do not,” he insists, shaking his head. It's almost adorable how he thinks he can fool Enjin; dealing with Riyo when he first found her had given him enough training to see right through Zanka’s deflection.
“Yer one to talk ‘nyways,” Zanka huffs, crossing his arms around his jinki and leaning on her. Lovely Assistaff stays transformed, anima curling around her like wisps of smoke.
Enjin lets out a dramatic wail, giving Zanka a playful smack on the back. “What is that supposed to mean?!”
He sputters, seemingly realizing what he had said. Enjin knows he has to be exhausted; Zanka was definitely the emotional type, but in the short time he had been a member of the team he had yet to show it, smoothing his feelings over with an impassive act. The fact he was snappier than usual today meant that he was finally letting his true personality seep through, and while Enjin was proud of Zanka for warming up to him enough to show it he was just as worried because ordinarily he would never let comments like that loose.
“Seriously, when was the last time you slept? You aren’t usually this cranky.”
“I did this mornin’,” he mumbles in response, clearly embarrassed about his sudden snappiness.
Yeah, no. Enjin does not believe he’s been adhering to a healthy sleep schedule for a single second. If there’s one thing he trusts the teens on Team Akuta to do, it's not taking care of themselves. Riyo has gotten loads better since joining, but Zanka has only been around for a couple months and as such does not have the same self-care beaten into him yet.
He raises an eyebrow, prodding the situation a little more and praying for a straight answer. “And you slept for how long?”
Zanka turns away slightly at that, one of his tells when he isn’t being completely truthful and trying to dodge the topic at hand. “Enough.”
“Suuuure. And I’m one of the Raiders.”
Silence stretches on after that, Zanka running his hands up and down his staff; a nervous habit. Enjin turns to leave, but pauses right before he does.
‘Damn,’ he thinks, eye twitching slightly. ‘These kids are making me go soft. Ordinarily I’d never go out of my way for this type of thing, but it seems I can’t help it this time…’
He throws a glance over his shoulder, shoving his hands into his pockets before praying Zanka doesn’t notice the obvious attempt at getting him to go outside and relax for once.
“By the way, we’re going to be heading out to Canvas town later; just the three of us. Team bonding, y’know?”
He doesn’t need to elaborate on who their third will be; they both know a certain red haired girl will be ready to go the second their duties end. Zanka seems to puff up in joy at that, and Enjin suddenly feels a pang of cuteness aggression. If there was one thing he would utilize Zanka’s obvious admiration for, it was to drag him out to all sorts of activities that would ensure he didn’t rot in HQ following an insane training regimen.
The invite is already setting in, and Enjin can feel Zanka’s joy despite his calm expression. He figured out on week two that happiness was actually quite easy to spot; Zanka’s eyes would widen ever so slightly, and the corners of his mouth would twitch upwards, even if only for a second. “Okay! I’ll finish some stuff up, then join ya.”
Ejin leaves for real, breathing out a sigh of relief as he goes. Taking care of teenagers really was hard – they were stubborn as mules, and constantly running off into dangerous situations. He shuddered, imagining what would happen if he found any more of them; his hands were plenty full with two, no way was he picking up any more mentees in the near future.
He taps on his choker, searching for Riyo’s contact and waits for the call to go through.
-
When Enjin suddenly calls, Riyo has a feeling it’s something to do with their newest addition. She was a light sleeper, and with connecting rooms his schedule was plain as day to her.
While she hadn’t said anything about it yet as a show of good faith, it was honestly starting to become a little worrying. Despite only knowing him for a few fleeting months – and finding him just a little boring at first – he had grown on her like mold until he became basically a brother to her.
The uneven steps back to his room at midnight then the shrill sound of a muffled alarm clock two or three hours later made for a rather concerning pattern; even her previous line of work wasn’t this demanding, so why did Zanka insist on such a punishing daily ritual?
(Riyo knew the answer deep down, of course. She knew from the day they found him, frozen in place at the bottom of a well, hungry and filthy, that Zanka was incapable of seeing how far he’d come, always looking forward in pursuit of what was still ahead.
She envied it, sometimes; the past clung to her, never letting her free, and Riyo couldn’t help but turn back every now and then. Zanka, on the other hand, kept blazing forward despite everything, an inextinguishable flame.)
The choker buzzes for a split second, and Enjin’s voice fills the room, crackly due to the connection.
“Yo, Riyo! Wanna join me n’ Zanka in Canvas Town later?”
“Sure,” she replies, her mouth moving before her thoughts can catch up. “Are you trying to tire him out before bedtime?”
“Maaayybe,” Enjin drawls, and Riyo can picture the look on his face even though he isn’t in the room. “Why? Are you worried about ‘im?”
Riyo pauses at that, her hand moving to her jacket pocket to fidget with her scissors. Enjin had been the one to facilitate their introductions, trying his best to get them to grow closer, and while she hated to admit it he had succeeded. Not to say Zanka was hard to get along with; just that they both had issues and Enjin was patient enough to somehow get them to break through said issues.
“…A little,” she admits, looking down. The floor of her bedroom stares back at her, a sliver of light peeking in through the window and highlighting the specks of dust she had failed to notice last time she cleaned. “He barely sleeps, not to mention the amount of meals he’s skipped in favor of missions or more training. Guy’s the biggest workaholic I’ve met, which is saying something.”
Her admission shocks Enjin enough to have him go quiet for a moment, allowing her words to tumble around his brain for a little bit. He should have expected it; Zanka was a former Hellguard, and considering the state they found him in it was no surprise he would continue to work himself to the bone as some way of proving himself.
“I knew he was skippin’ out on self-care but I didn’t think it would be this bad,” he grumbled. “Jeez, I sure have my hands full with you two…”
“Don’t let Zanka hear you say that,” Riyo laughs, half joking.
Enjin lets out a noncommittal hum, and Riyo can visualize him scratching his head in the same unbothered manner he always does even if he’s probably on the opposite side of headquarters. “You make me sound like a neglectful father!”
“If the shoe fits,” Riyo shrugs, finally pulling herself out of bed and stretching to get rid of the stiffness that had settled into her joints, “Now, I’m going to actually get to work–catch ya later?”
She hears shuffling on the other side before finally hearing a reply. “Yeah, go ahead, just don’t be late!”
Riyo rolls her eyes, a half-hearted ‘of course’ tumbling out of her mouth as she pulls on her boots.
Today was a quick and easy cleanup, a few stray trash beasts on the outer edge of Canvas Town. Riyo double checked her belt, ensuring The Ripper was tucked away where it should be before rushing out the door with a series of hurried footsteps.
She had a commitment with her team after all; no use in keeping them waiting.
-
By the time the three of them manage to meet, the sky is already turning dark. Enjin was the most disheveled one of them all, and yet he carried the widest smile, throwing an arm over Riyo before pulling Zanka under the other.
“So glad we could all make it!” he cheers, and Riyo has to admit his enthusiasm is infectious. A small smile appears on her face, and when she glances over Zanka is just barely restraining his expression from breaking out into pure joy. “Now, let our first official team bonding mission commence! I got recommendations on all the cool age appropriate things to do from Semiu, so you two better appreciate this!”
“You smell way too much like cigarettes again,” Zanka blanches, turning his head away slightly and yet making no move to escape the embrace. Riyo knows he’s just trying to act unbothered, looking for any excuse to hide the creeping blush on his face at the unexpected contact.
Enjin leaned down slightly, sniffing his clothes a couple times before shrugging and beginning to pull the two of them along towards the gate. “It’s not that bad,” he mused, “Is it?”
Riyo speeds up, attempting to match his pace. The three of them move as a tangled mess of limbs, before settling into a coordinated enough pace as they step over the border. Canvas town greets them, a mess of graffiti and lights. The street is packed with people, loud and alive in a way few other places on the ground are. “Maybe a little,” she says teasingly.
Enjin gasps, pausing before turning down a narrow side street covered in flower murals. “Wh–seriously, you two!?” He turns to Zanka, mock offense written all over his face. “Be honest, is the stink that horrendous?”
Zanka sputters, caught off guard. He nearly trips over his own feet, attempting to collect himself and failing miserably. “Well–er—not really? ‘S alright, I’ve smelled way worse before ya know?”
“Hey, you can’t just ask him!” Riyo protests, “He’s going to agree with you no matter what! Zanka, there’s no need to lie, we all know how many packs he goes through in a day. You admitted it earlier, no take backs!”
Zanka frowns slightly, seemingly registering what he said earlier, his tired mind catching up with his actions as he panics. “Seriously, it’s not,” he insists, waving his hands. He glances at Enjin nervously, as if waiting for him to get angry or make some kind of comment about his behavior. “I didn’t mean what I said earlier, jus’ forget it.”
Another turn, this time to an alley of mismatched shapes and geometric pieces. Enjin glances down, still smiling but with an air of seriousness as he speaks. “Don’t worry so much or you’ll go grey before I do. Us Cleaners aren’t like those stuffy old Hellguards, you can say what ya want, kid.” Riyo nods along next to him, her gaze softening.
“Enjin’s right, you think too much,” she shakes her head. “Loosen up a little! Tonight we’re just gonna have fun!”
The path opens up, and an assortment of stalls greets them. Everything smells of herbs and spices, piles of mouthwatering dishes stacked until they reach the patchwork ceilings of the temporary booths. Riyo skims over each of the stalls, taking note of which ones seem to be the most popular as the three of them get closer.
A long line for burgers and flavored fries. To the right, a dozen different kinds of pasta, each with varying sauces and toppings. One vendor had a mystery soup that everyone seemed curious enough to stare at but not touch.
“Since this was my idea, I’ll be nice and treat you both for dinner,” Enjin offers. “But don’t go eating up my entire savings, okay!?”
Riyo stares at her options, already thinking of what to have for dessert. “Well someone’s being generous tonight.”
“Always am,” Enjin grumbles. They wander through a couple more lanes, surrounded by so many options that Riyo’s head is spinning. “Yo, Zanka, see anything interesting?”
No reply, Enjin turns around a couple times, trying to spot the familiar dirty blonde hair. “Zanka?”
Riyo points to a stall with paper lanterns adorning the sides and a distinct Kamuatari District vibe before walking towards it. “He’s over there.”
Enjin follows her, squinting to see the menu as they finally catch up to their errant member. “Huh,” he says, startling Zanka, “Didn’t think you’d go for this.”
“It’s nothing,” Zanka mumbles, before starting to walk away. “Just something I recognized. We don’t need ta eat here, you an’ Riyo can choose.”
Riyo grabs the back of his collar, pulling him back. “Hey, if you like it there’s no problem. The two of us aren’t exactly picky eaters.”
Enjin hums in agreement, stepping forward to order. “She’s right. You’re free to pick what you want, we aren’t gonna attack you for it.”
“But–it’s not exactly cheap, I don’t want ya to have to pay for it when there’s plenty other options,” Zanka winces.
“Now now, that’s more of an insult to my wallet if anything. I may not be as well off as some other folks but I’ve still got enough for a nice meal or two I’ll have you know! Now, are you going to choose or will I just have to order a little bit of everything?”
Zanka stares, mouth slightly agape. “That’s not necessary! Riyo, you must be cravin’ something, right?” He shoots her a pleading look, and she almost caves and recommends a different stall at the sight of it. Instead, she smirks, leaning on the hardwood frame of the stand.
“I don’t know, this looks pretty good,” she pretends to think, “I think I’ll have the shoyu ramen, actually.”
“Sure,” Enjin says, waving down the worker. “Two bowls of shoyu ramen and whatever dish is best for sharing.”
He glances back at Zanka, before allowing his eyes to wander to the rest of the people waiting behind them. “Choose something already, will ya?”
Zanka stares at him as if attempting to read his mind. One of his earrings sways slightly, and Riyo resists the urge to readjust it. “I guess I’ll have the same thing.”
“Make that three bowls!” Enjin calls out, digging through his bag for his wallet. “You two go look for somewhere to sit, I’ll wait for the food.”
Riyo grabs Zanka’s hand, and he yelps as she starts dragging him away. The guy is seriously unused to touch; they’re going to have to work on that, she thinks. “Will do!”
Zanka lags behind her as they search for an empty table, feet dragging from exhaustion. Riyo’s mouth twitches downwards ever so slightly, trying to keep the worry from showing on her face. The last thing Zanka needed to feel was that she didn’t want him around, and if he saw any trace of a frown he would surely jump to the conclusion that Riyo was annoyed at needing to spend time with him, as outrageous as it was.
Zanka would never show such vulnerability of his own free will. Riyo had seen him dislocate a shoulder midway through a mission and pop it back in place without saying anything to avoid being sent back to headquarters for goodness sake. He had to be dead on his feet if he wasn’t even keeping pace with her anymore.
She keeps her voice light and the hand holding Zanka’s steady, continuing to push past the crowd. “Are you feeling alright?”
“Fine,” Zanka squints, rubbing his eyes forcefully. “Just a bit of a headache, ‘s all. Nothin’ serious.”
Riyo knows not to push it any further, but she does make a note to keep an eye on him. “If you say so.”
The two of them slip through another row of occupied seats, before finally coming to a stop at a bench situated in front of a flickering streetlamp. The old thing was covered in various graffiti tags and even a little dinosaur that looked suspiciously like Guita’s onesie.
Riyo all but tosses herself on the old thing, ignoring the creaks and groans it lets out. Zanka just shudders, kicking at one of the legs, testing its weight. His eyebags look far more prominent under the harsh lighting, face just a little too pale to be healthy.
“This thing looks like it could collapse any second now,” he says, voice dry and deadpan.
Rio shrugs, waving her legs in the air before leaning backwards without a care in the world. The bench shudders dangerously, and Zanka cringes at the sound of grating metal on hard gravel, hand shifting to Assistaff involuntarily. A few people blessed with actual seats turn to look at them, disturbed by the noise. “Seems fine to me,” she chirps.
Zanka drags a hand down his face, taking a deep breath to calm himself. The streetlight overhead continues to buzz ominously, as if trying to spell out a warning in morse code. “Oh my sph—Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn ya,” he scowls, dusting the spot next to Riyo off with his sleeve before sitting next to her. She just rolls her eyes; once a rich kid, always a rich kid. Zanka would sooner get impaled by a trash beast than willingly get dirty.
Riyo still remembers their first mission, a couple serpentine trash beasts right outside Mole Town. Zanka had rushed right at them, movements so lightweight he almost looked like he was floating. The two of them had maneuvered through the trash in sync, slicing through the small fry with terrifying precision before allowing Enjin to handle the largest one.
Umbreaker, unfortunately, had a tendency to send trash and whatever mystery liquid was inside flying as it shredded through the beasts. Zanka had looked on in horror as grey sludge hit his face and stained his clothes, letting out a strangled cry before nearly passing out as Riyo doubled over in laughter.
(And if she made sure to stand just in front of him when mud and grime went flying during missions, that was noone’s business but hers.
Riyo didn’t mind getting a little dirty, after all.)
“Hey, Enjin’s here,” Zanka called out, snapping her out of her thoughts. The smell of pork broth and soy hit her nose, and Riyo felt her mouth water as she reached her hands out. Evenly sliced bits of meat sank into a rich brown broth, real green chives standing in stark contrast to the rest of the dish. She took the chopsticks Enjin handed her, poking the noodles and realizing with delight they were just the right consistency.
Enjin raised an eyebrow before sinking down next to Zanka, cracking apart his chopsticks with little fanfare. “Couldn’t you guys have chosen somethin’ with a table?”
Riyo raised an eyebrow at that before gesturing around the crowded space, chopsticks still in hand. “See a free one around here, old man?”
Enjin coughed, nearly spitting out a mouthful of noodles before managing to swallow. “I’m not that old! You two are just—really young! Babies, in fact!”
Zanka scoffed, blowing on a spoonful of soup. His bowl sat in his lap at an awkward angle, almost threatening to spill. “Young? Kyouka was already leadin’ missions for Hellguard at my age.”
“The numbers don’t lie,” Enjin shrugged, “Don’t know what to tell ya, Zanks.”
The boy seemed to puff up at that, surprised by the nickname. A wobbly smile started to creep onto his face before he forcibly shoved a piece of pork into his mouth, although it did nothing to hide his excited shiver. It was almost depressing how easy it was to notice, and Enjin didn’t need to be a mind reader to understand what was going on in his brain.
Enjin, THE Enjin gave me a cool nickname!? This is one of—no—this IS the best day of my life!
Enjin couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness at the whole situation, as heartwarming as it was. How starved for any kind of positive attention was Zanka in the Hellguard?
A vision of a dilapidated well crosses his mind, the faint silhouette of a boy in uniform at the very bottom.
“I’m shit, utter shit! I wish I could just drop dead!”
Zanka had hit absolute rock bottom due to his family’s crushing expectations. Enjin knows that well.
…But sphere above, couldn’t they have at least shown him an ounce of affection or something!? It sure would have made his job as a brothe—mentor hell of a lot easier, that’s for sure. Enjin knew himself, and he was the last person anyone would expect to be even remotely good at helping out traumatized kids. He had no idea why the universe kept sending them his way. Unfortunately, the best he could do was offer some praise and hopefully get Zanka’s sub zero confidence up to a reasonable level.
Enjin let out a sigh, nearly reaching into his pocket for a cigarette before remembering he had his hands full, one grasping a pair of chopsticks and the other a soup spoon. He stared into the nearly finished broth in front of him as Riyo and Zanka bickered beside him like siblings. Enjin shuddered to think about what that meant for his sanity in the future.
“I can’t believe you started shaking over a nickname, Zanks!” Riyo teased.
“Did not! How many times do I need to tell ya, I was jus’ cold is all!”
Riyo just smiled cheekily, clearly happy with the reaction she was eliciting. She leaned over, shoving her spoon into Zanka’s face. Underneath her, their seat creaked dangerously. “Keep telling yourself that, and maybe it’ll actually come true.”
Enjin grabbed his bowl as the last of his ramen splashed onto his pants. “Riyo can you at least try to beha—“
CRASH.
What was previously a bench was now a pile of wood and splinters. Enjin stared down at the remains of a very expensive porcelain bowl in his hands, contemplating his existence as well as how much the thing would cost. Riyo groaned, standing up like nothing happened and picking her (thankfully) intact utensils off the ground. “Darn it,” She muttered, “I wasn’t done with my last mushroom.”
On the other hand, Enjin could feel his back about to give out as he stood. Young people really took their recovery time for granted.
“Are you serious,” he groaned, “This is going to cost me my next paycheck!”
“Sorry,” Riyo shrugged, although she still reached into her pocket for some change. Enjin just waved her off wordlessly, pulling out his own wallet as she grinned.
He shook his head before giving her a disgruntled stare. “Not. A. Word.”
“Didn’t see a thing,” she nodded, though her face visibly softened as she returned the coin to its place inside her jacket. The two of them turned to their third member, who was still sprawled out on top of the wreckage. Riyo waved a hand in front of his face, fingers covered in sawdust and smelling faintly of rust. “Zanka, man, you good?”
Zanka twitched, clearly trying to stand but looking completely out of it. Enjin’s heart sank as he took in just how unwell Zanka looked, exhaustion clearly having caught up with him at the worst moment.
He tossed enough money to settle the bill towards Riyo, before gesturing towards the stand as he hoisted Zanka into his arms. “Go settle the bill, I’ll get Zanka to the car!”
She nodded, the surprise quickly being replaced with focus as she jumped over a concerned looking couple’s shopping bags and made a beeline for the stall.
Enjin had enough trust in her to take care of things without any bloodshed, which meant his priority was now Zanka. The poor guy was clearly worn out, and while it didn’t seem like anything serious Enjin still felt his heart hammering away like a jackhammer in his chest, worry threatening to burst out of it at any moment.
Since when was he so attached to some kid?
He pushed aside his thoughts, fumbling around for the car keys while trying not to jostle his mentee too much. “Let’s get you to Eishia,” he mumbled.
—
Zanka stared up at the sky, dazed. His vision blurred at the edges, Riyo’s worried expression fading in and out of his sight. The more he blinked, the fuzzier she got; one second he could just about make out the hair falling out of her fishtail due to the fall, the next her entire hairdo was a large red blob that seemed to wobble even without any movement.
He clenched his fists, fighting the ringing in his ears and the headache that threatened to put him out of his misery with every attempt to move his legs.
Zanka swallowed, the pit in his stomach growing bigger; this only confirmed his suspicions. He really had gotten weaker, just dead weight on the team. How weak did someone have to be to get taken out by something as simple as a bench collapsing?
Distantly, he recognized the fact that it probably wasn’t just the fall; he hadn’t exactly been feeling amazing since he awoke, although he had chalked it up to having an off day rather than something serious.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. How the cleaners took pity on someone like him was a mystery. He just needed to train harder, deal with the perpetual exhaustion and pain like a functioning member of the team. His routine was nothing special; something Kyouka had instilled in him since he could walk. The work and practice never had her or Goka looking this pitiful, so why was he the odd one out? An average in a family full of geniuses?
Enjin’s arms reached down to pick him up, and Zanka felt a rush of embarrassment at the way he melted at the touch. His head pounded like a drum, pain shooting out in waves.
“Lets…Eishia…”
“Sorry,” Zanka slurred, cringing at his own voice. His tongue felt like lead, refusing to cooperate as blinding agony continued to assault him, but he had to push through. “D’nt…Don’t need her. Sorry ‘bout ruining dinner.”
Enjin flung the passenger side door open, setting him down like precious cargo. “Don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault. Just—we worry, Zanka. You aren’t taking care of yourself.”
Zanka had been trained to handle pain. He could take a beating no problem, even if it wasn’t exactly enjoyable. Even now, his thoughts muddled and hazy, the trained instinct to suppress any sign of discomfort stayed a priority.
The guilt at Enjin’s words though, was different. It clawed at his insides, and Zanka felt his throat constrict.
Physical pain was one thing. But if there was anything Zanka was exceptionally weak at, it was managing the emotional kind.
He was right all along; his presence was nothing but an inconvenience for someone like Enjin. A stray dog the man had taken pity on and never stopped following him around. He was just another thing for the team to worry about, despite his promises to be anything but.
They were all worried. About him. Zanka felt his breathing grow shallow and uneven, the line between shame for causing this and comfort at the confirmation that they wouldn’t just toss him aside mixing into a cocktail of emotions and settling into his body.
“I can see you spiralling from here,” Riyo called, tossing an empty wallet at Enjin before crawling into the backseat. Zanka hadn’t even noticed her arrival, and by the way Enjin jumped neither did he. “Don’t know what this guy over here has told ya, but you aren’t disposable to us Zanka, so at least try not to overwork yourself.”
The comment throws him for a loop, and he struggles to look up at her. “Ya mean that?”
“Of course,” she says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.
Zanka goes quiet at that, as if he hadn’t even considered the possibility of such a thing. The car continues to rumble as silence settles over the team.
Without another word, Enjin reaches out to ruffle Zanka’s hair before climbing into the driver's seat. He sits there, slack jawed but looking far better than he did a few moments ago. The panic must have made the migraine far worse than it was.
“Try not to have Zanka puking his guts out before we reach HQ!” Riyo yells, part worry and part teasing.
“You doubt me far too much,” Enjin groans. Zanka lets out a small smile at that, before burying his head into his hands as another wave of suffering hit him.
The drive home is almost as peaceful as when Gris has the wheel.
—
Zanka’s migraine lets up as they round the corner to headquarters, and by some miracle he even manages to convince Enjin not to wake up Eishia on the way back.
“I feel better now,” he grumbled, crossing his arms like a moody teenager (which, in all fairness, he was). “One tiny headache ain’t worth gettin’ worked up over.”
“A tiny headache? Zanka, you nearly passed out due to exhaustion! In fact, you probably did for a hot minute when you fell!”
“I’m fine! Seriously!”
Enjin just shakes his head in disbelief before shutting off the engine and unlocking the doors. “Alright, how about we compromise? No medbay, but me and Riyo and staying with you tonight to keep an eye on you.”
Riyo was not expecting to be volunteered, but she had no problem with following along. “What, like a sleepover?”
“Exactly!” Enjin snapped his fingers. “We’re having a sleepover!”
Zanka doesn’t look so happy with that arrangement either, but they all know it's as good as he’s getting tonight. “Fine,” he finally chokes out. “But yer gonna need to bring in an extra bed. No way the three of us are all fitting onto one.”
“Will do,” Riyo nods. “I’ll go get the extra one from storage. Better yet, I’ll just drag my own to your room.”
Enjin snaps his fingers, “Good idea! You guys are neighbors anyways. I’ll take care of that, the two of you just get comfortable, alright?”
“You’re matching pajamas with me,” Riyo says, pointing at Zanka. “No complaints!”
He just shrugs, allowing her to wrap an arm around his as they make their way inside. “If you insist, who am I to say no?”
—
They end up sprawled out over two tiny twin beds, Enjin taking up most of the space as one of his arms dangles over the edge. Despite all of them being curled underneath enough pillows and blankets to suffocate someone, the room still buzzes with conversation rather than sleep.
“Laugh it up you two, but at least I’m not skin and bone,” Enjin scowls, shifting to avoid his leg sticking out of the blanket at an awkward angle and joining his arm in the area beyond the mattress.
“That’s his way of saying he thinks we should eat more,” Riyo whispers to Zanka conspiratorily. “Enjin tries to act tough but he’s kinda a loser.”
“Hey! That is not true and you know it!”
Zanka watches them go back and forth for a bit, their matching grins betraying their true feelings even with the lights turned off.
“Thanks,” he suddenly blurts out.
“For what?” Riyo asks, curling a leg around his despite the pillow between them.
“You know, for—putting up with me. And helping me out earlier.”
Enjin chimes in at that, turning to face the two of them as the bed dips. “You don’t need to thank us for the bare minimum, Zanka. You’re a member of the team. We take care of each other.”
Riyo hums in approval, eyes closing. For a second, Zanka thinks she’s fallen asleep, but her voice cuts through his tiredness just as he starts to drift off.
“We like you, Zanka. Not just your fancy skills. You could be a worm and we’d still put you in some dirt and feed you leaves or, well, whatever it is those things eat.”
Her words take a moment to register, but when it does it hits him like a train. Regardless of the crude wording, it was real confirmation, proof that he was, for once in his life, wanted.
They wanted him as a person. Zanka.
Not what he could provide as a giver and former Hellguard. Not his value as a member of the Nijiku family, disowned or not. Just him.
His entire life, love had been something to earn. A reward, easily revoked when performance wasn’t up to par. And here Riyo was, telling him that it simply wasn’t the case.
“Oh,” he murmured, voice thick with emotion, unsure what to say.
“Yeah. ‘Oh’. Now move to the left, I want more space, Enjin’s crushing me with his elbow.”
“I’m still awake by the way!” Enjin yelled, the sound muffled by his pillow, sending both Riyo and Zanka into another fit of laughter they barely repressed.
Enjin just rolled his eyes, “Go to sleep, both of you! For what it’s worth, Riyo is once again right. Now go to bed before I get Eishia!”
“Killjoy,” Riyo whined, even as she shut her eyes once again. “G’night, ZanZan.”
Zanka smiled. The anxiety had lessened, washed away by his teammates’ words. As he too began to grow drowsy, he managed one final “good night” before slipping into a dreamless sleep.
—
Enjin woke the next morning to a sore back and a leg cramp strong enough to incapacitate a horse. He yawned, stretching out his arms as he sat up. A quick glance next to him confirmed that Riyo and Zanka were still fast asleep, curled around each other like stray kittens in a box.
Enjin wasn’t the biggest fan of kids, but even he could admit it was a little cute.
He tiptoed out of the room, keeping his steps as silent as possible before slipping through the door and into the quiet hallway. The smell of coffee emanated from the direction of the kitchen, and he let out a sigh of relief; God knows he needed one.
Enjin wasn’t foolish. He knew a single night wouldn’t be enough to rewire whatever inferiority complex was going on in Zanka’s mind.
But…it was progress. A step in the right direction, even though it was small.
Semiu was the first to greet him when he entered the common area, a mug filled with espresso already next to her as if she was expecting him. Gris sat next to her, already scarfing down eggs and a sandwich.
“The great Enjin, soft for some kids. Never thought I’d live to see the day.”
“Oh please,” he waved, grabbing the coffee as he took the seat across from her, “You’re overreacting. I’m just being a responsible team leader, that's all.”
“Sure,” Semiu drawled, staring at him as if she could prove otherwise. “Hit me up when you need to file the adoption papers. I know a guy.”
Enjin shuddered, taking a long sip of his drink. “Not old enough for that! I’m a big brother at best!”
She shook her head. “So you admit you care for those two?”
Enjin scratched his chin, stumped. Perhaps she did have a point.
“I guess,” he shrugged. “Still not a fan of kids though.”
Even Gris looked at him knowingly. “And yet you seem to attract them like moths to a flame.”
“If he isn’t careful he’s going to end up with a third,” Semiu huffed.
“As if! Team Akuta might as well become Team Child at that point.”
Gris gave him a knowing look. “You never know.”
Semiu downed the rest of her coffee before moving to leave, readjusting her glasses as she stood. “But in all seriousness, take care of them, Enjin. They look up to you, y’know? Especially Zanka.”
Enjin’s eyes softened, the memory of his charges from this morning surfacing again. “I try.”
Semiu just nodded. “Good enough for me.”
—
Zanka stirred to Enjin in full gear, standing over a mess of pillows. Riyo got up next to him, hair looking like a bird’s nest.
“Alright, time to get up,” Enjin yelled, throwing out a thumbs up. “We got trash to clean!”