Chapter Text
Weak. Co-dependent. Obsessive. Givers.
The first word was used mostly by the Hellguard, who believed that the reliance on a singular inanimate object was a sign of a feeble mind. The latter two were mostly spat by civilians who either didn’t understand the love Givers had for their jinki or were afraid of the power they wielded.
Before Hyo, Zanka had never thought of himself as weak. Why would he? He was top of his class, the uncontested front runner to sit on the Golden Throne. It didn’t matter that he spent all his time studying or training; he was strong, and he thought he had a gift. Then, the girl had peeled back the layer of delusional film off his eyes, breaking through his misguided view of himself. A shield further shattered within the bowels of a trash beast, torn to pieces by sharp claws and a ringing laugh. The proof was in his losing streak, the eternal loss of ground from the high horse he had been riding, when he believed himself anything besides painfully and devastatingly normal.
Before Lovely Assistaff, he didn’t think anyone in their right mind would have called him co-dependent. His days at the academy were spent alone, no friends or even acquaintances to speak of. The Nijiku family hardly spoke to him, wrapped up in their own squads and missions. Zanka learned to be on his own, to be content in his own company. After first holding Lovely Assistaff, though, that changed. Where he went, she came. He spent more time with her than he ever did with anyone at the Academy. He spoke to her and asked her questions, knowing she wouldn’t respond, and yet he is still comforted by her presence. Her steadfast support never breaking under the pressure of having to stand next to someone like him.
Obsession, though, was something that Zanka was familiar with. He went after what he wanted with a single-minded determination. For the Golden Throne, he spent countless hours studying and training to get a leg up on those in his class. Too many nights without sleep, unable to truly take their toll when he was fueled by the desire to sit on proof of his work, his ability, his talent. In the Cleaners, he no longer needed to study, but his training regimen only increased as a result. He needed to show that Enjin hadn’t been mistaken when believing that Zanka was capable of beating a genius. He learned every curve and ridge of Lovely Assistaff, a dedication to caring for his treasured instrument only matched and potentially surpassed by Rudo.
Zanka knew that he was obsessive, but even he had to admit that this was a new low. He peered around a corner, trying to catch a glimpse of his target as he moved through the town. Zanka caught the tail end of the other’s hair and followed swiftly after him, years of training allowing him to move silently through the alleys and roads. He watched as the purple-clad pain in his ass strolled down a familiar street, bobbing his head to a beat Zanka couldn’t hear.
This had been going on for a little over a month, which Zanka knew was far too long. He’d been enjoying a rare day off and checking out some stalls in Wane Town when he heard a gratingly familiar voice. On a very impulsive whim, he decided to follow the sound until he saw Jabber being dropped off by the manhole Giver. The male Raider gave her a thumbs-up and was off as soon as the portal closed.
For the next few hours, Zanka followed and convinced himself he was on a mission to protect the people of the town from the Raider.
Surprisingly, Jabber had left the townspeople alone for the most part, besides visiting some shops, but Zanka hadn’t abandoned his self-imposed post until he got a call from Enjin with instructions to go back to Headquarters. Since then, Zanka had seen the Raider several times and stayed close at each instance.
It’s for recon, Zanka thought to himself as he darted between people to keep an eye on Jabber. It was true that he had learned several things about the Raider while on these expeditions, like the locations of two potential safehouses, and learned the man’s spending habits (mostly various fluids and powders Zanka didn’t want to think about too much), but he hadn’t told anyone about them. He convinced himself it was because he hadn’t seen the Raider cause any real damage on these outings and that he needed something more concrete than locations and mystery substances to take him in.
Zanka had just turned a corner to follow Jabber onto the final block before they reached one of the safehouses when his choker started ringing. With a sigh, he ducked into a side street and took the call.
“Yo. Zanka, where are you, dude?” Enjin’s voice came through.
“I’m about six kilometers from base,” Zanka responded. “Why? Do you need me back?”
He could practically see the man rubbing the back of his neck as he replied, “Yeah, boss has an assignment for Akuta. I don’t think you gotta rush back, but maybe put a little pep in your step.”
Zanka sighed and peeked out of the alley. He had lost all signs of his target. “Heard, be back as soon as I can.”
“I knew I could count on you. See ya when you get back!” Zanka smiled slightly at the praise before walking in the opposite direction from Jabber.
His journey back was quiet, giving him little to do but think. He truthfully didn’t know what he expected to get out of watching the other man. Zanka wasn’t delusional; he knew that if Jabber tried something, he wasn’t strong enough to stop him. In fact, it was more likely that his presence would cause the Raider to wreak more havoc to try and fight him. Perhaps he thought that watching Jabber would allow him to unlock some kind of secret power buried deep within himself. Zanka huffed at the thought. He’d learned a long time ago that strength didn’t come from watching. If that were true, he would have gained strength from his siblings, the Cleaners, and even Hyo herself. No, he knew that people were either born strong or had to work for it, and unfortunately for him, he was part of the latter group.
He debated with himself the whole way back to headquarters. Watching Jabber, it seemed, served no purpose to him. There was nothing to get out of it except confusion and what felt like a heart attack whenever the other man turned around fast enough to almost catch a glimpse of him. Still, Zanka knew that he would go back to that same town and look for that same man again, for reasons that continue to elude him, much to his frustration.
Jabber didn’t act much differently when he was ‘off the clock’ as to when he was fighting. He was constantly fluttering from place to place manically, barely sparing a glance at anything he deemed unworthy of his time. When something did catch his eye, though, he seemed incapable of leaving without having it in his grasp. On his terms. Zanka had seen him haggle with vendors to get items below half the original price; their exasperation and annoyance at his insistence and tenacity was a familiar sentiment. It was odd seeing him without the bloodthirsty look in his eyes, though. He wasn’t calm by any means in its absence, just different.
There were points in which Jabber would try to goad someone into a fight, but he’d either be refused or get bored after one swing and end it before Zanka could intervene. Zanka supposed he should have done something to stop the fights from happening, but it wasn’t like Jabber was attacking people unprovoked. Plus, if he tried to stop every fight he saw break out on the Ground, he would never get a moment’s reprieve. So, instead, he kept watching as Jabber sighed discontentedly at the caliber of his opponents and moved on.
Why they were left alone and simply knocked unconscious when Jabber was so fixated on Zanka and actively chose to fight him, he didn’t know. Why Jabber always seemed so disappointed by every move they made didn’t make sense. Why Zanka even spared it a thought confounded him.
Zanka, however, continued to turn Jabber’s actions over and over in his head, examining them closely to try and unravel the reason he was so enraptured by them and why the Raider acted the way he did. Zanka had been at this for over a month, and he’d gotten nowhere.
He scoffed, annoyed at both Jabber and himself. As he approached Cleaner HQ, he forced all thoughts of purple-clad dread heads out of his mind. There was a job to do.
As soon as Zanka pushed through the doors, he saw Enjin leaning on Seimu’s desk, chatting idly. They turned as they heard him enter, Enjin raising. a hand in greeting.
“The boss is in his office; Riyo should already be there,” Seimu stated, pushing her glasses up with a single finger.
Zanka nodded and noticed that Enjin hadn’t moved. “You're not coming?” He asked.
“Nah, just you and Riyo today. It’s a routine cleaning job. Some trash beasts are seen too close to a town for comfort,” Enjin shrugged. Zanka nodded, feeling a stab of disappointment. After being the only one to be defeated during the fight with the Raiders, he’d been gunning for an opportunity to prove himself; however, it seemed like that would have to wait
“Alright, see ya soon,” Zanka set off towards the meeting spot and heard Enjin call out ‘Stay Safe!’ from behind him. He gave a thumbs-up in affirmation and continued.
He saw Riyo waiting outside the boss’s office, idly spinning an unactivated Ripper on her finger. She smiled widely at him.
“Dude, where have you been? I was looking for you earlier, but it seemed like you disappeared into thin air,” she asked.
“I was out,” he replied simply.
She huffed. “Yeah, but like where? Give me some details, man!”
He side-eyed her, “Why do you wanna know so badly?”
“Because I’m booooored,” she stated. “You’ve been gone, Rudo’s been hanging out with Remlin all day, and everyone else is either on a mission or busy. There’s literally no one to talk to.”
“What about Enjin?” Zanka asked. “He was hanging with Seimu when I came in.”
Riyo sighed, “I kinda meant people my age.”
Zanka didn’t have a response to that, so he just knocked on the office door.
“Come in,” Corvus invited. Zanka pushed inside and stood at attention, waiting for his mission orders.
The boss nodded at the pair and stated, “There have been a few trash beast sightings outside the border of Wane Town.” Zanka felt his face twitch slightly while Corvus continued, “Our contact said that there’s a herd of about two dozen roaming around, but that they’re small and slow. The only real concern is that they keep getting closer to the barrier. We’ve been hired to get rid of them effectively and efficiently. Gris, Follo, and Tomme should be ready and waiting for you.”
“Sounds good, boss man,” Riyo said, a large grin on her face.
Corvus sighed, good-naturedly, “That’s all I have for you two. I’ll hear the report from Seimu when you get back. I know you can handle it, but just be careful out there,” he ordered.
Zanka bowed slightly and replied, “Yes, sir.” Beside him, Riyo just gave a thumbs up in affirmation.
As soon as they were out of the room, Riyo asked, “Why do you look constipated?”
He huffed, “Because I just came from Wane Town.”
She laughed loudly at that. “Oh, that sucks, dude! Did you see the trash beasts while you were there?”
“No, and I didn’t hear anyone talking about them either,” he responded. That may have been because he was focused entirely on something else, but he wasn’t going to admit that to Riyo. What would she say if she knew he wasn’t capable of spotting an entire herd of trash beasts because he was too preoccupied spying on Jabber of all people? That any information he could’ve gotten by talking to civilians had been shirked to watch the Raider speak to them instead? That he’d been to the town multiple times and had nothing to show for it except the shopping habits of the man who’d drugged him on more than one occasion?
Riyo hummed, “Weird, but whatever.” They were silent for a moment before she asked, “Do you want to make it a contest?”
Zanka raised an eyebrow. “What a contest?”
“Taking down trash beasts!” She exclaimed excitedly. “Corvus said that there’s two dozen or something, so we should totally compete to see who can take down more.”
“...Okay,” Zanka agreed. “And what do we get if we win this contest?”
Riyo thought for a second before responding. “The winner gets treated to dinner at their favorite restaurant?”
He considered it. Treating Riyo to dinner wasn’t the worst possible outcome to losing, and if he won, all the better. “Sure,” he shrugged. She beamed at him in response. They chattered idly until they met up with the trio of supporters.
“Hey, you two, ready to roll out?” Gris asked, dangling the car keys in his hand. He nodded at the older man, and the five piled in.
“You still never told me what you were doing in Wane Town earlier,” Riyo noted.
Follo raised an eyebrow. “You were there recently?”
“Yeah, today,” Zanka sighed. “I had just gotten back when the boss told me I would have to go out again.”
“Damn, that blows. I hear they have great stalls there, though. Maybe we'll go shopping after if you didn’t get there earlier,” the older boy suggested.
Zanka shrugged, and Riyo questioned him, “Is that what you were doing, shopping?”
Nope. “Yeah, I wanted to check out some stalls,” he responded instead.
“Ooh, you should totally show us around then, maybe I’ll find my prize there,” Riyo exclaimed excitedly.
“Prize?” Follo repeated.
Riyo nodded, “Zanka and I are having a contest to see who can take down more Trash Beasts. The loser has to buy the other dinner.”
Follo nodded in understanding. “So Zanka, what are some good shops in Wane Town?” Follo asked.
The blonde looked at the two other Cleaners. “Neither of y’all have been?” They both shook their heads. Zanka supposed that was fair; he hadn't really frequented the town before spotting Jabber. It wasn’t really a dream vacation spot for people; there were towns a bit closer to HQ that boasted similar or even more expansive collections.
He thought about the question for a moment. The only time he had really explored for himself was the first day he went; all the other times had been spent either looking for Jabber or watching him. Luckily though, due to the Raider’s tastes, Zanka had gotten to see a multitude of the unique shops in the town.
“There’s one that sells a bunch of clothes and trinkets from the Northland, which is cool. Another one sells a lot of weird flavored sweets, like truffle flavored ice cream.” He considered a bit more. “This one spot is a little out of the way, but it’s run by a Giver who uses a watering can to grow a bunch of rare plants.” The last one was the spot that Jabber went to each time Zanka had seen him. The woman who ran the shop seemed to appreciate the business, commenting how it was good to see ‘a young man so interested in botany.’
The other two nodded along. “Didn’t know you were into plants like that,” Riyo commented.
Zanka shrugged, “I mean, she sells a bunch I’ve only seen in books before. I haven’t bought anything though, just looked.”
She hummed and stated, “We should bring back some sweets for Rudo.”
“Isn’t he with Remlin today? Trust, they’re probably gonna find more than enough sweets on their own,” Zanka replied. After the first time, he would not be giving that menace anything with sugar for the foreseeable future. Both Follo and Riyo chuckled at that, and before Zanka could further defend his stance, the car stopped.
The five of them hopped out, Tomme already flipping through her notebook to find a blank page. Gris sighed at her antics but started stretching in preparation for the fight.
It didn’t take long for the first few trash beasts to make their appearance. There were around five of them, all taking the form of some kind of lizard. It seemed like the boss’s informant was right; they were small in size and weren’t too quick. If all of them were like this, Zanka thought, they could handle it in less than half an hour.
Riyo smirked at him before taking off like a shot, determined to win. Zanka followed hot on her heels, taking down his first trash beast with one swing. He immediately moved to the next one, absentmindedly noting that more and more were emerging from the ground.
As he swung Lovely Assistaff, he thought about something Jabber had said when they fought. That he was at his happiest when there was no victory, only endless fighting. Zanka didn’t think he agreed. He liked to win. He liked coming out on top. He liked to be the one left standing. But he had to admit that when Jabber hadn’t reemerged immediately after he had flung the acid rock on top of him, he had been disappointed. He hadn’t even been that concerned in the moment that he had potentially broken the Cleaners' only major rule of not killing; he had been upset that the fight was over so quickly. He’d been surprised when the other man had reemerged, but there was something else underneath that feeling, something he didn’t, or couldn’t, give a name to. It had been buried under shock and quite a bit of apprehension and fear when Jabber had activated Mankira fully, but it was there; he remembered it when he woke up. It was only when he realized he was the only one who had failed to defeat his target, the only one who had been deadweight in the fights against Bundus and Noedre, the only one that had been useless.
He tried to see if he could muster up that same feeling, beating down the trash beasts one by one, but no matter how many he struck down, it never came.
“There are way more than two dozen,” Riyo shouted. Zanka grunted and kept beating the creatures. Lovely Assistaff’s spikes dug into them and ripped out their cores easily, each victory adding a tally to the steadily growing count in his head. Even if there were more than originally believed, it didn’t matter. These trash beasts were so weak that even an average Joe like him could take them down, no problem.
At one point, he felt a shiver go down his spine, as if something, or someone, was behind him. He swung around violently and cut down another trash beast, but the feeling didn’t go away. He took a quick glance to take stock of where the rest of his team was, seeing if it could’ve been them. Tomme was staring at him intently and writing quickly, probably taking vigilant notes as always. He shook off the feeling and went straight back into the fray.
Eventually, there was only one left. He and Riyo raced to destroy it. Lovely Assistaff swung heavily, destroying its head while Ripper stabbed through its center.
The two Givers were panting. Riyo wiped her forehead with her head and commented, “That was a pretty good workout.”
Zanka hummed in agreement and side-eyed her, “So, how many didya get?”
She considered for a second, tapping her finger on her chin. “Either 27 or 28, depends on if we’re counting the last one.” She shrugged before turning to face him head-on. “How about you?”
He felt his jaw clench. “19,” he grit out. She grinned widely and let out a loud whoop.
“You heard that, guys, dinner on Zanka tonight!” She called the supporters.
“That’s not what we agreed on,” he retorted.
She waved him off, “We’ll all be together anyway, it's fine.” She paused before continuing, “Besides, it's not like you spend your money on much besides maintenance for Lovely Assistaff. Unless that’s changed from your recent visits to the shops, of course.”
He glared at her but didn’t disagree. So what if most of his income went to his vital instrument? He had room and board for free, and had clothes practically thrust upon him by August; there wasn’t much else for him to spend money on.
The five of them made their way into the actual city proper, making conversation as they went. Zanka weighed in from time to time, but his mind kept going back to their competition.
Riyo was strong, incredibly so, Zanka knew. He was also aware of the fact that someone like him couldn’t beat her, not in speed, strength, or on the battlefield in general. And yet, he’d done what he always did. He believed that all the training he had done since his fight with Jabber would push him past mediocrity into something better, something more.
Despite that, he’d still lost. Had been beaten by almost ten whole trash beasts, over half of his total. Pushing himself never seemed to get him any further than someone else’s starting line. He kept thinking that a little more would propel him past the finish, when all it ever does is make him realize how far he’s fallen behind.
He felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Good job out there today,” Gris stated with a kind smile on his face. Zanka returned the gesture, looking down slightly. He knew that he didn’t perform as well as he should have, but he couldn’t help but enjoy any praise that was sent his way.
“Yeah, thanks,” was all he said. Gris nodded at him and patted his shoulder again before moving away.
Riyo took his spot next, “Zaaankaaa,” she drew out, “You should show us around. Bring us to all the hidden gems.”
“Aren’t you supposed to decide where we go?” he questioned. She just smiled in response. He huffed but did as he was told. He took them all to the more memorable places he had seen, Follo and Tomme each buying a few trinkets to bring back to base with them. Riyo purchased a bag and a new hoodie, and while Gris didn’t buy anything, he seemed interested in some of the jewelry.
Eventually, Riyo found a restaurant she was satisfied with and declared that it was where they would be eating that night. Thankfully, it didn’t seem horrifically expensive. As the five of them ate and relaxed after the mission, Zanka tried to put all thoughts of his shortcomings and Jabber out of his head, deciding that he wouldn’t be coming back to this town for a while. He couldn’t afford to be so caught up with Jabber; he had to get stronger.
—
It had been a week.
He was back.
Zanka cursed each step that he took away from base, but was unable to stop himself from journeying back to Wane town. He’d been there enough and had watched Jabber enough to know that the Raider had something of a schedule when it came to visiting, one that Zanka now followed as well.
He should be training. He should be seeing if the Cleaners had any jobs for him. He should be doing literally anything else.
He was already there, though, so it would be ridiculous to turn back.
Reaching the town was the same every time; he’d find some inane alleyway and canvas until he saw or heard the Raider and follow from there. He was resigned to doing the same that day, but while he was walking around, he noticed that he wasn’t alone in his curiosity.
It wasn’t unusual for unfamiliar faces to pop up while Zanka was visiting; it was a town with a lot of shops. People liked to stop by for the day, and even then, Zanka wasn’t delusional enough to believe that he had seen the faces of everyone in the town. That being said, people who visited or lived there usually didn’t conspicuously peek out of alleys and frantically look back and forth before retreating back into the darkness.
He counted three of them, all dressed similarly to one another. Probably working together then, and from the looks of it, they were amateurs, not used to stealth. They muttered loudly to one another and kept shifting their gazes around, obviously searching for something. Zanka considered following them, but decided it really wasn’t his business unless they started some shit.
After walking around a bit more, he finally saw that trademark purple fabric belt weaving through pedestrians in the town. Zanka was ready to follow, but he was stopped short when he saw the same trio he’d seen before walking the same way as his target, all whispering to each other and tripping over themselves to keep up with the other Giver.
Zanka huffed and trailed behind all four of them. Unlike the three in closer pursuit, he made sure that no one knew he was there. He’d been trained to be stealthy, to track, and he wanted to see where this was going. He found a building with a fire escape and quickly scaled it to the roof to get a better view.
They obviously weren’t Hellguard (they would never let such sloppy troops into their ranks), so they weren’t there to arrest Jabber. Maybe they were people who the Raiders had stolen from or terrorized who were looking for revenge? That explanation seemed more probable, but Zanka was pretty sure that common people were well aware of the fact that they would be outmatched by a Giver like Jabber if they had seen him work before.
The man they were hunting seemed unaware of the people following him; he skipped through the streets unbothered by the potential threats behind him. For once, he didn’t stop at any vendors and walked straight past both of his houses in the town. Instead, he headed for a more secluded and open part of town that Zanka had only been to once. It was almost at the barrier and had nearly nothing of note except piles of trash from the people in town. The last time they’d been there, Jabber had collected scrap metal and glass containers left behind. Zanka kept close, leaping from roof to roof, which got more and more rundown as they got further from the city center.
Jabber started slowing down before dashing off in the direction of one of the mounds, rifling through for something Zanka couldn’t see. What he did see, though, was one of the three men pull up his shirt and take a gun out of its holster.
In almost slow motion, Zanka saw him raise the gun to point it at Jabber, and without thinking, he jumped.
He felt Lovely Assistaff transform and planted her into the ground, using the momentum to swing into the man holding the gun. Unfortunately, he didn’t let go of the gun while he went down and sent a shot at Zanka.
He dodged left and heard a pained grunt from behind him, likely one of the other lackeys caught in the crossfire. He rushed forward and swung Assistaff hard on the gunman’s wrist, causing him to lose his hold. Zanka kicked the weapon away and hit the butt of his staff on the bottom of the man’s chin, knocking him out.
Rapid footsteps approached from his right. Zanka turned and saw the third man running at him, arm cocked back. The man was bigger than he was, both in height and width. Zanka let him get close and ducked under the swing. The other obviously hadn’t been expecting him to dodge and put too much power behind the blow to stop himself. Zanka took advantage of the other’s momentum and elbowed his jaw, throwing him off balance. While he stumbled, Zanka followed up with another blow to his temple, putting him down as well.
He looked behind him and saw that the third man had indeed been hit by the gunshot. He was holding his side with one hand, and Zanka didn’t see much blood, meaning the bullet had likely just grazed him. Since the shot wouldn’t be lethal, he didn’t feel bad about sprinting forward and taking him down as well.
The fight had taken less than a minute, but Zanka was panting with exertion. Damn, he thought, I really have to work on my stamina.
Behind him, a wolf whistle sounded, interrupting his thought process. Zanka whipped around and saw Jabber looking at him with a wide smile.
“Damn, Mr. Bad Attitude," he drawled. “Usually I would be mad at someone stealing a fight from me like that, but you sure know how to put on a show.” Impossibly, his grin got wider. “Do me next.”