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The ends of Zanka’s well loved staff flew by Rudo’s head, causing him to swerve to miss the attack with gritted teeth, air escaping through the gaps.
He quickly regained his sturdy position, dodging a rebound Zanka was trying to shoot at him, but just barely. He scrambled to duck under a fist that flew at him, swerving up to dig his own gloved hand into his mentors chest.
It was stronger than he expected, or Rudo wanted it to be apparently, as Zanka yelped and fell some ways away to the floor.
Still clutching Lovely Assistaff, obviously.
Rudo paused at the sound, hesitating as he watched Zanka grunt and hiss out insults under his breath as he got off of the padded floor, brushing off his knees. He didn’t look at Rudo, making the boy feel even more uncomfortable and uncertain.
He and Zanka were training in an extra training room that was reserved for rainy or gross days. Most Jinki, including theirs, were not to be activated inside, so they had decided (Rudo was forced) to work on sparring. Zanka had been trying to show Rudo that working specifically on one fighting style instead of a mash was the way to go when it came to close combat, while Rudo had shown him repeatedly that his hypothesis was wrong.
To be fair, Zanka should have anticipated more out of the scrappy teen. Rudo was, yes, small and frail looking, but he had already seen a variety of feats the boy had pulled off only after less than half a year on the Ground.
And yet. Yet, here they were, Zanka pissed off at him for being good at fighting. Yet, Rudo was whooping his ass with what seemed like little effort. Yet, Rudo’s own temper was growing at Zanka’s constant infantilization of him, despite the two year age gap.
“Ya little shit,” Zanka snarled, finally glancing his cold blue eyes down to glare at his mentee. Rudo wrinkled his nose, already expecting insults to come flying at him. No one else was in the room; they would be soon enough, though, when their fighting got out of control with rather screams or yelling. “This is trainin’, Rudo. Do we need ta work on monitorin’ yer strength next? No wonder ya break everythin’ those gloves o’ yours touch.” The oldest ground out. Rudo dug his bare heels into the padded flooring.
”I don’t break shit, turds-for-brains. It’s not my fault you suck.” Rudo snapped, and suddenly, so quickly that he even barely realized as his defenses were lowered too much, Zanka was flying at him, pinning him down with Lovely Assistaff’s stem under his chin, forcing his head up. He groaned as his head bounced against the floor, staring right back into those angry pools of blue.
”You don’t listen. How clear do I gotta be?” His mentor seethed, and Rudo knew he had hit something deep. Something that clung to the notion insecurities, despite the endless walls Zanka had built between them. “I go easy on ya. I don’t suck.” He continued to snap, before drawing in a somewhat deep breath and shoving the kid under him to the side as he got up, his eyes glittering with small flecks of unease. Rudo bared his teeth in defense, like the rabid animal he was, shoving and scrambling up to meet him too.
”This never helps me learn. You at least suck at being a mentor.” He snapped back, and Zanka, who was already turned around to walk away and end the session, stiffened and paused.
“‘S not my fault my apprentice can’t learn.” Zanka shot back, and Rudo took that personally.
“Why do you hate me so much?!” Rudo yelled back, rushing forwards to try and get a swing in at the older one. Zanka dodged with ease, ignoring him. “Why do you make me do these worthless training sessions? Why do you make me try and seem weaker than you? What are you trying to prove?” Rudo asked, rage still boiling over as he yanked on Zanka’s shoulder to face him. He was met with that shockingly entered gaze again, face flat other than those eyes.
”Because ya do all o’ this so effortlessly!” Zanka cried out, hands outstretched as one clung to his staff. His mentor’s rage and emotions had just snapped like a weathered string apparently, walls and boundaries flooded and rendered useless as red waves of frustration came streaming by, carrying whatever was clinging to the stick-user’s mind.
Rudo seemed to be just the best at bringing out the worst in people.
“You just—ya take nuthin’ away from da little things ‘n I’m starting ta think it’s because ya think yer too good fer it. Well, ya ain’t.” Zanka shook his head, accent shining brightly as his facades slipped away. “All yer doin’ ‘n da end is usin’ us. What’s da point of trainin’ ya if yer jus’ gonna go back to da Sphere?” Zanka finalized, and Rudo’s shouldered hiked up in defense. The blue-eyes teen took an aggressive step forwards, and Rudo took one backwards, wanting to maintain space. That resulted in Zanka’s head raising in victory, making Rudo shrink back even more as he tried to gather something to fire back. Eventually, it stumbled its way through his mind: his rebuttal, his savior.
“What’re you doing here, then? What’s your goal?” Rudo challenged, looking back up to Zanka. Zanka scrunched his nose further as if the answer was obvious. Rudo, knowing very well that this is not an easy to answer question like his mentor was implying, challenged him further. “Why did you join? Why stick around? You seem pretty fine all by yourself.” Zanka just shook his head, before deciding to humor the Spherite in front of him.
”I joined ta get more trainin’. Ta be better. Ya should know this if—“ he stated simply and icily, rolling his eyes and looking away.
”How much power will be enough for you?”
Zanka looked back over at him in shock, scoffing and defensively crossing his arms. “Well, eventuall—“
”How much?”
Zanka grew quiet. Rudo did, too, wanting to emphasize the idea, acting like a man possessed; no longer was the kid with anger issues in front of him, but a person who was maybe concerned or curious about the person he acted like he hated the most.
”What will you do when you have it?” Rudo tried again, only met with silence that could be taken as rebuttal, or more truthfully, no answer.
”Well… I’ll go back home.” Zanka said after some time, and Rudo scoffed himself.
”Those people are assholes.”
”They’re family.”
”I come from a family of assholes. I left them.”
”Yeah, well, ya didn’t get a choice.”
”I chose Regto as my dad.” More silence. “…’n I guess I kinda see our team as one, too.” Zanka continued the scoffing game, rolling his eyes as if that was a silly notion.
“…’m still goin’ back.” Zanka continued after some time, with little conviction.
”Then what?”
Zanka was once more quiet, looking at the floor in frustration before he shook off the question, going back to being angry at Rudo. That was easier than being angry with himself—Rudo himself was familiar with that kind of anger.
“If yer so smart, what’re ya gonna do when ya make it to the Sphere?” Zanka growled, changing the focus to him.
Rudo, despite the hostility, had found an odd sort of calmness. Maybe it was because he felt like he was getting somewhere. Maybe it was because this was better than the sparring he tried to hard to get out of.
Maybe it was because he was finally understanding his mentor, finally knowing that, despite their opposing backgrounds, had similar issues.
“I dunno. Not yet. Just want to make it there first.” Rudo mumbled, shrugging weakly and without that rage the Cleaners had become accustomed to. Apparently, all that did was make Zanka angrier. Rudo guessed it was just a defense, that he didn’t want to be seen emphasizing with him in this moment. He wasn’t incapable of doing it, just reluctant.
“I know I’ll come back here, though.” Rudo finalized. Zanka couldn’t look at him, annoyed gaze to the wall. “You guys, even you somehow, have treated me better here than anyone but Regto and sometimes Chiwa back up on the Sphere.” Zanka’s gaze came back to greet Rudo’s, looking almost saddened at the thought.
They were once more quiet for some time, defenses lowering as the moment of hostility passed. They became shrouded in thoughts, thinking about the future that they didn’t know would bring, or if they’d make it. Zanka’s goal was practically unobtainable just by the simplicity of its rule: “become stronger”. Rudo’s was beyond dangerous and bold.
Zanka also lingered on Rudo’s mention of family. Family. Rudo thought of Team Akuta as a family. Zanka was included in that, as Rudo didn’t make any snobby comments against it.
”…guess we’ll see what happens.” Zanka finally murmured, rage back into his carefully managed dam. Maybe the water levels were a bit lower than before, too. Rudo continued to watch him, his red eyes depth-full yet depthless, emotive yet blank, full of life yet lifeless—those red eyes—stared back at him, not calculating but understanding.
Zanka can’t help but feel that maybe, despite how sourly this whole session had gone, was their best one yet. That, despite the yelling they had gotten under not just each other’s skin but defenses to see a common similarity: the fear of their future. That, despite their “insurmountable” goals that constantly battled against their stubbornness, there was little to nothing left for the, after that. No objective, just floating around until something new sparked their interest.
And that scared him. And he had the faintest idea it scared Rudo, too.
”If you don’t get your ass whooped by me first.”
Nevermind. Forget anything he had just thought.