Chapter Text
The white noise in his head abruptly cuts out.
Zanka blinks.
Had he blacked out?
No.
He was still standing exactly where he'd been.
Mouth dry and heart thumping in his ears, For a fleeting moment he feels strangely disoriented, like he'd lost hold of a thought before he could finish thinking it.
He doesn’t have time to dwell. Kyouka's voice cuts through the air.
" If you wish to take the spherite back so badly..."
She pauses by design, to let him torture himself before she puts him out of his misery. Scenarios danced over his grave in his head on what cruel plot she was cooking up for him before it hits him like a sledgehammer.
Grip on his beloved staff suddenly turns white-knuckled as fear seeps into the calm he'd carefully maintained. Composure crumbling. Regressing.
This was more what his siblings would expect from him. A trembling, pathetic child still trying to stand tall among people who made it all look effortless.
She was going to ask him to break Lovely.
Break the source of his failure as a Nijiku in exchange for Rudo. His eyes glazed over. It made perfect sense in the way only fucked up Nijiku logic could. He briefly wonders if he even could, even if it’s for Rudo’s sake.
He buries the thought immediately. He has to. He has to.
He can't stop the tremors in his hands as he imagines the wood of his partner splintering apart in his own hands.
His nightmare looms above him as she continues.
“Show me his worth to you.”
He feels Kyouka make her demand before she so much as speaks it. He won’t let her.
“You’ve made it pretty clear what it is you want.”
She doesn’t react.
“My ‘atonement’, right?”
Probably shouldn’t say things with such a mocking tone. Not if he’s planning to atone for the rest of his damn life in their custody...
“You want a Hell Guard outta me so badly?”
“Fine.”
“Consider me un-deserted.”
“I’ll return to you. Of my own damn will.”
He says it like he means it.
Willingly.
What a joke.
“Catch up on the shit I missed out on, graduate, be a perfect little solider. So just...let Rudo go....”
Another little problem worms its way through his skull, sure they’ll find a way to be difficult....Can only hope they lay off.
“The cleaners aint done shit either so you keep minding your business and they’ll keep minding theirs...”
Enjin suddenly pipes up, honestly a miracle he’d kept silent this long.
Zanka’s heart sinks as much as it wanted to be elated, sitting in the realisation
He waited as long as he did because he trusted you had a plan.
A real one....That wasn’t...This.
“Zanka cm’on man you don’t really want this...do you?”
Zanka bites his tongue down, almost enough to draw blood.
What the hell do you think?
A child screams within him. One he wishes he could bury.
I WANT to go home.
A gunshot cracks through the air.
The bullet bites the ground just shy of Enjin's boot, skimming the leather.
Enjin freezes.
A dangerous steeled glare is cast up to his shooter.
Not good.
Zanka can tell Enjin is ready to escalate, hand slowly drifting to draw Umbreaker.
Zanka’s eyes go wide. Things will go sour quick, and it won’t end in their favour.
“It’s okay,” He forces the words to spill out. Willing them to back down.
Enjin's attention snaps to him in an instant. Heartbroken disbelief searching his face for a trick he'd missed. Despite everything, he still desperately hoped Zanka had a plan up his sleeve.
His throat tightens.
“You said you'd let me call the shots here yeah?”
He swallows thickly, this was his deal to make. No one else had to be hurt.
“ So back down.”
Enjin opens his mouth to argue. He doesn’t get the chance.
”Back down... or Rudo is lost to us forever”
Enjin hisses curses through clenched teeth. Riyo looking back and forth between the two of them. The reminder lands. They won't gamble with Rudo's life.
“’sides...It’s about time I stop screwing around pretendin to be something I’m not...”
“Zanka...”
For once, Enjin has nothing left to argue with. Just his name.
The desperation still clinging to it tells Zanka that Enjin isn't buying any of the crap he’s selling.
Fair. He'd done a terrible job making it look like he wanted any of this. Not that it mattered. There wasn't any way out of it now.
Kyouka just watches.
Zanka can tell she finds the whole thing amusing, even if her face never shifts. If she were anyone else, she'd be grinning ear to ear.
‘The blonde charlatan's spell had finally broken.’
‘Zanka had finally come to his senses.’
Said charlatan shuffles closer to Riyo, wordlessly telling her to prepare for a fight while ushering Eishia to back away.
The guards that had quietly gathered along the perimeter react instantly. The moment Enjin and Riyo reposition, the Hell Guard move with them, weapons brandished. A subtle shift of bodies cuts the cleaners off before they can move closer.
Riyo's senses narrow to a razor's edge, hand hovering over the ripper despite the guards trained on her. Keen eyes scanning for intent, opportunity, weakness.
Enjin growls through their grasp.
“Zanka cm’on man you aint gotta do shit, the boss’ll find some dirt on em to get Rudo back, you dont have to do this!”
He can’t meet their eyes.
“It’s just how it’s gotta be...”
The tone of confidence he’d managed to sustain falters.
A near inaudible whisper following. So wet and pitiful he can’t stand that he let it leave him.
He hopes it only carries to Akuta.
“...I’m sorry.”
Enjin calls for him. An uncharacteristic high pitch of worry lacing his voice.
“Zanka, hey! Talk to me man!”
Zanka doesn’t answer.
Kyouka makes it clear he is not to be part of this conversation, offers only a brief sneer at the blonde, directing her words at Zanka alone. The distance between him and the cleaners feeling like a growing chasm.
“...You think it so simple? That you can just act as you please and return as you see fit?”
Small murmurs from onlookers break out, no doubt sharing the sentiment.
“Tch. “ Unspoken bitter words echo within him you’re the one who wants me back “You want your Hell Guard don’t you, then fine, I’ll be one.... “
He glare finds the ground, takes all he has not to let himself mumble.
“....Whatever the shitty terms, whatever punishments you see fit. Just-...Just let Rudo go.”
He squeezes his eyes shut, doesn’t want to face any of this anymore.
His jaw twitches, swallowing thickly.
Itching fingers crave holding onto Lovely tighter, but he keeps her on his back.
Already planning contingencies, prepare his arguments. If they decide Lovely is part of the price he’ll steer them off.
Whatever their opinion on ‘dependants’ he’ll make it clear he’s stronger WITH her than without. Far be it for them to choose an option that makes him weaker. Less useful. He won’t let them take this much from him. Not her.
A warm hum meets his acknowledgment. Somehow even in the depths of literal hell he finds himself in... If she’s with him, maybe he can really go through with it.
Kyouka stares down, all a performance. He knows her mind is already made up but she just loves to watch people shrink under her as they fear her next move.
“....Very well. You will resume your training under my tutelage.”
“No efforts will be spared to bring you up to level you should have been before your pitiful stumble.”
“You will fulfil the role you were meant to.”
Some gasps erupt, some scoffs, none of them relevant, the crowd has done all it needed. Now every reaction to all that unfolded just served to mock him.
“You will serve your family, and your guard.”
A scornful glare is cast to the cleaners far too far behind him before returning to him as a warning.
“No distractions will be permitted. You will not run from your duty again.”
There something in Goka’s quick glance to her that catches him off guard. Swears he saw a flash of...Jealousy? For him? Hah. Wouldn’t that be something, the perfect unquestioning infalliabe Hell Guard Goka having a reason to be jealous of him. He must be already starting to lose it. Far more likely a small crack in certainty of their sister’s judgment to hold out an olive branch to their failure like this.
The terms are clear.
He doesn’t have it in him to make any ultimatums for himself. He has to save those for Lovely.
“Rudo.”
It’s all he can manage, the only thing worth all of this.
Whatever their demands, he’s already accepted. Just give them Rudo already.
She nods and finally the tension in him eases. They’re letting Rudo go. He’ll figure the rest out later.
Enjin calls out again.
“Zanka c’mon , there are other damn ways! You don’t really want this!”
It’s my choice
It’s the only way
Please just let me do this
All excuses die on his tongue.
He can’t look back to him. To any of them.
If he dared, his resolve would crumble in an instant.
Enjin is still yelling his name, throwing himself against the guard holding him.
Riyo just watches. Silent. Wide eyed. Like she still can't understand that he's actually doing this.
Eishia frozen, panic written all over her face.
Zanka keeps his eyes forward.
The silence stretches just long enough for him to think Kyouka might change her mind.
Then the door screams open and Rudo comes into view. Bound. Gagged. Thrashing wildly. Struggling with all he has. Giving the guards holding him a world of trouble despite them being five times his size. A sight to make him proud, if he had the time to chew on that.
Rudo’s mouth was crudely taped shut, but Zanka’s sure he can hear every bit of the string of profanity the kid wants to spit out anyway. A little beaten and bruised, but not half as worse for wear as the typical Hell Guard hospitality should have him.
They hadn’t started any interrogations yet...
He finds a sigh of relief falling from him. Small mercies. He takes a sharp intake of breath, fixing his posture.
Rudo comes out. He goes in. It’s as simple as that.
Neither of them move... They’re all waiting on Zanka to make the first move.
His feet stay firmly in place.
Just one step.
This was the deal he'd made.
As he peers into his former home, the reality of it finally settles in.
....Not a cleaner.
Not Akuta.
A Hell Guard.
Rudo...
Riyo....
Enjin...
All of them...
They’d never let him see them again.
A Nijiku once more...
Every thing he’d been left behind.
Can already hear Kyouka laying out the terms and claiming the blond charlatan would prove to be too much of a distraction so it’s for his ‘own good’ he never sees him again.
No.
There would be something. He’d make there be something.
Maybe...
His mind swims.
He'd get stronger. Train everyday, no distractions, nothing will hold him back. They'd see his worth. Let him make his own choices. Let him return to them...
Or even just visit.
Write.
Hope dies almost as quickly as it came.
He could never measure up.
Despair grips at his chest as he can’t find a way.
Stay. Wait. Run away.
Even putting the cowardice aside, any escape for him just put Rudo back in the firing line.
Even if the others tried something...
Any rescue would only drag the Cleaners into open conflict with the Hell Guard.
There wasn't another path now. He'd walked himself into this trap. No one could pull him back out.
The second he steps through those doors, he would never be able to return to them.
That reality choked the air out of him, a hysterical laugh almost tears through him.
Wouldn't look good if he started damn hyperventilating now. He's supposed to be a desirable prize to swap out for something as important as Rudo.
Gotta stay presentable, the promise of a Nijiku who can still be salvaged.
Pointless. Don't know why he keeps letting his thoughts run off like that anyway.
He’d known it would be an end, that he wouldnt come back from this... He should have said a proper goodbye.... Kicks himself for trying to play cool noble martyr and not feeling he would need one. Now it’s all he could ever want.
Kyouka's eyes never leave him. He's sure she can smell his resolve faltering.
He hears them. Enjin. Riyo. Even Eishia. All struggling against the guard behind him. Yelling. Fighting. Screaming his name. He should turn around, let them know this really is okay. It’s not. He'd thought he'd made his peace with this before they even entered Kamuatari. Turns out making the choice was easier than living it.
Needs to do it. Knows he must.
He can’t.
...
He closed his eyes...
...And takes the first step.
Against every fibre of his soul screaming against him, he marches.
Adjusting his posture. Shoulders upright, dignified. Like a Nijiku should be.
No shaking. No hesitation. No weakness.
Never letting so much as a flicker of terror cross his face. Even as every step still feels like walking himself to the gallows.
A lost brother they can still try to mould.
Halfway.
That was where they met, at a crossroads of fates.
One walking out.
Dragged by Guards.
One walking in.
Trapped by duty.
The tape is ripped from his mouth with little mercy as Rudo’s eyes meet his as the guards escort him the other way.
Mouth free, Rudo should be taking advantage of all his freedom to spew whatever angry cusses he’d like. Instead, his mouth only falls open, red eyes fixed on Zanka in dawning horror. It doesn't take long to understand.
Zanka would get out of it in once piece though, with all the privilege of expectation, Rudo would have been torn to pieces.
"...Zanka?"
Barely louder than a breath.
He gulps, hearing his name from Rudo threatened to shatter the resolve he’d found completely.
He wills his eyes to meet his, steels himself. His own hushed voice carried with the wind as they went opposite ways.
“S’ okay....I chose this. You just go home."
It doesn’t convince either of them.
Rudo flinches. Guilt floods his face. Whatever he wants to say dies as the guards drag him toward the waiting cleaners. All held back by a neat line of gathered guards.
Zanka gives a mumble, not expecting Rudo to even hear him anymore.
"'Have the time of you life'..."
Red eyes follow Zanka all the way out.
Zanka’s blue fall forward.
The Zanka they knew was going to die on this doorstep.
He crosses over the gateway, and keeps walking.
Behind him lay the life he'd chosen. Ahead, the one chosen for him.
He had to suck it up, forget who he was. He’d made this deal. He can’t return to them.... But he won’t forget. He’ll always be grateful to them...
He hopes they know that.
Wishes he told them.
Thank you.
For letting me pretend I belonged with you.
I'm sorry.
He gives one final glance.
Glossy eyes watching as they struggle against the grip of Hell Guards.
Thier eyes find his.
Eishia, terrified. No idea what to do or what to think, floundering as the guards close in around her.
Rudo, tossed unceremoniously to the feet of the other cleaners, scrambling upright, twisting desperately to steal one last look before the estate swallowed Zanka whole.
Riyo steeled, giving so little away, but they’d had whole conversations without words, even before the need to use gestures came along. He can't answer her silent plea.
Enjin, desperately pushing against the guard to reach him, one hand outstretched.
Their eyes meet one last time.
The mask slips.
For the first time since making his choice, Zanka can't hide the honest fear on his face.
Enjin sees it.
Neither were willing to be the first to let go.
The doors make the choice for them.
Zanka’s gaze lingers on the metal, as though he could see through, to steal a few more seconds with them.
They were gone now.
It was done.
Everything felt numb.
Even the yelling dulled beneath the weight of the iron doors, growing fainter as Akuta were presumably escorted away.
Swallowed until only silence remained.
......
He was home.
Nothing has changed.
The courtyards look exactly as it did in his memories of it. Not so much as a cobblestone out of place.
Only Zanka himself an outlier, a foreigner in his birthplace.
For a long time he just stands there breathing.
The air is so fresh its suffocating, even his own lungs craved to be caked with the tar of a polluted zone. Still he breaths. Easy. Mask free. Not sure if time is really flowing. Still struggling to catch up with the reality that any of this was real, and not just the eerie calm before he descends into a nightmare that will wake him with a start.
One that he'd find his panic quickly quelled by the gentle cooing of a redheaded sister, one who'd so often slink into his room in the middle of the night. Gently wrapping her arms around him all the tighter. Reminding him bad memories didn't make him weak.
Somewhere along the line, she'd become the first face his mind reached for when he thought of a sister.
Now he was back here.
Back where that word belonged to Kyouka.
Eyes float adrift, searching for a different anchor.
The wooden training posts. The only un-pristine thing in sight, tattered and close to falling apart from relentless use. Soon to be replaced.
He remembers striking them until his hands bled, because Kyouka had been watching over his progress. She'd hardly acknowledged him, had simply told him over and over.
"Again."
He'd thought if he hit hard them enough...Long enough... Eventually she'd stop finding fault in his technique. Maybe even be pleased with him.
His stomach twists.
His feet begin moving before he decides to. No one moves block his wondering, to escort him. They don't need to... Where would he run?
He ignored the stares, watching him curiously. What would the disinherited son would do now he’d returned to atone? What his first move would be?
He doesn’t know either.
Kyouka and her entourage travel down from the steps. A balcony he knows too well. Building he knows like the back of his hand.
The courtyard, he’d spend hours in the gardens here.
Trees rustling.
Expectation.
Crushing weight.
A home he didn't survive.
Everything feels muffled, somehow standing underwater on dry land. Jaw clenches as he stares up at her, as even as he can manage to keep his expression. Defiance still slips through. Face as still as undisturbed water, a storm churning beneath.
He considers spitting.
Thinks against it.
Fat lot of good that will do him.
A coldness settles in him, finding an old habit instead. He closes his eyes and lowers his head to his elder sister in a bow.
Her gaze is hard, unshaken. She returns with a smaller bow of her own.
Goka glares.
Great.
Everything was fixed then.
Just like how they were before.
He feels like he’s gonna throw up. Wouldn’t that be hilariously fitting. First thing he does on his return is tarnish the floor with his bile.
She eyes him for a time, then silently welcomes him to reorientate himself.
How uncharacteristically merciful of her.... Probably just enjoys watching him squirm like a dying bug in her web.
He takes the invitation anyway.
Free to wonder his home, the estate unfolds around him, all intrusive memories he never wanted to remember. About as comforting as a headache. And he’s sure he he’s in for a rough one. Temples straining with his jaw as tight as a vice. Dull aches blooming as the each memory resurfaces, tightening his chest.
He has to dispel it. All his bolstering and falling apart the second he stepped foot through the door? Screw that. If they want him here so badly he’ll make it work. For him. He hopes they regret forcing him back here with all they have.
He wonders a bit aimlessly, not keen to stray too far in, irrationally feeling like the deeper he goes the more he builds up the bar of his own cage, as though he wasn’t already trapped. His siblings apparently in no rush to re-shackle him to his duty. Watching him with an almost morbid curiosity.
Kyouka follows behind at an uncomfortable distance, her tail now dispersing to go about their other duties, and her now apparently occupied with babysitting him.
He finds familiar steps.
Somewhere he’d hid away often when expectation was too much.
He’d always enjoyed their garden. The shrine tucked beneath the overhanging trees, somewhere he came to think.
It felt sacred in a way.
There were Ema everywhere in Kamuatari, lined every tree, stung between houses, anywhere the eye could see. Little wooden plaques by the dozen. All commemorating a wish for the future.
And this tree overlooking the shrine was where the Nijiku’s hung theirs. An imposing visual of their long and proud lineage as plaques wishing for honour, dignity, prosperity, victory, all line the various branches. He’d never felt prouder the day he’d etched kanji into wood the day before he entered the academy. Their Mother never had time, but Kyouka and Goka, even his father had indulged him with their presence. All there for the moment he strung his wish up alongside all the Nijikus that came before. Transitioned from fledgling and into a Nijiku in full.
His tiny shoulders naively welcoming the heavy burden, never once considering it may crush him.
The branches sway lazily.
His breath catches as he finds his own wish come back to haunt him.
The wood is weathered now. Edges softened by rain. His own handwriting staring back down at him, almost as though accusing him.
強
Stength....
He stares at it for a long time.
Then looks away.
It suddenly feels like someone else's handwriting.
...
Everything feels surreal.
Dissociation starts to take him, it can’t be real.
None of this can be real.
A voice pulls him back from drowning.
"You have fallen far dear brother, but it is not too late."
Kyouka appears again.
Real, in front of him.
Holding her hand out.
Waiting.
His brain catches up to the waking world, staring dead eyed at her manicured hand.
Expecting him to give her something.
He won’t.
He’d know it was coming, but he won’t. Not her. She’s all he had here.
“I’m stronger with her.”
She grimaces, no attempt to hide her disgust. Doesn’t stop holding out her hand.
“You are too reliant on it. It has been a clear hindrance to your growth.”
He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment to steady himself. When they open again, they find Kyouka's. A quiet, resolute fire burns behind them, warning that if she wants him to give her up. She’ll have to damn well fight him for it.
""I'm a giver. Whether you like it or not. That's what I am."
Lovely always gave him courage, he could have never faced up to her, denied her command until now. If she’s to threaten lovely, he won’t go easy.
“It would be a damn waste of the ability I have not to make use of it. “
He slips Lovely from her perch across his back, the familiar spin in his palm happening before he even thinks about it. Never once does his glare leave Kyouka as blue anima races along the wood, swallowing it in metal. He slams her base into the courtyard path with a deafening crack. Stone buckles beneath the impact denting the concrete beneath it.
Some poorly disguised chatter and gasps break out from some of the other guards and staff at seeing a giver in action, he doesn’t give a shit what they think of him.
“Hell Guard exists to keep givers in line because the powers we have makes us a threat....”
“...So ain’t it an advantage to have a giver in the ranks, someone’ll know exactly how other givers tick?”
He doesn’t need to see it, practically feels Goka roll his eyes at him, no doubt finds the whole display garish. Wills kyouka to just snap the stupid twig and be done with Zanka’s divergence from all the Nijikus should stand for.
But she doesn’t.
Seems to consider his words before speaking.
“The fire of Hell Guard is strongest when it burns with many different flames. See you keep yourself in line and I’ll allow your continued disgrace to stand.”
Zanka releases the breath he’d been holding. Too soon it seems. His eyes catch on Kyouka’s still waiting hand. His unspoken questioned answered immediately.
“You will earn the right to wield this. When you have proven yourself.”
His grip tightens, unconsciously curls around her protectively as eyes go wide at the possibility of being separated from her. He splutters, needing to make his case.
“Th-The quality of a givers vital instrument relies on constant maintenance, I need to keep her in the best condit-”
“You will hand it over, or it will be destroyed. It is your choice.”
....
His vision spots. It taking all he has to not let his hands start trembling wildly.
His fingers refuse to open.
They lock around Lovely so tightly his knuckles ache.
Every muscle refuses the order.
Don’t let her have her way.
But to refuse risks losing Lovely altogether.
...Keeping her intact is the only victory left to him.
He snarls.
Thrusts Lovely into Kyouka's grasp before he can think better of it. The blue of his soul dispersing as the contact is lost. Regrets hits in an instant. The silence where her voice should be is enough to deafen him.
He gulps as she’s then palmed off to a stranger, marched off to who knows where. Locked away in some store in the dark where no one will hold her, polish her, ask her how she is doing. It sickened him to his core.
He can’t hide the pained look as he watches on. He doesn’t care what his siblings think, doesn't care what the other gawking guards think of him. No hands but his should have ever touched her.
It dawns on him he’s truly alone now.
He feels hopelessly small without her. A rabbit who’d walked himself into a den of wolves, pretending it could become one of them instead of being eaten alive.
....
He wonders what they're doing just beyond the gate.
Still arguing with the guards? Still demanding to be let back in? Still trying to drag him out of the hole he'd dug for himself?
Or had they accepted it already? Taken Rudo and gone home. Just like he'd promised they would.
...
Something childish in him wished they were still clawing at those gates for him.
He shoved the thought down.
Counterproductive. Selfish.
This was exactly what he'd wanted. Rudo was safe. The deal was done.
He wasn't worth fighting a war over anyway.
Kyouka breaks him out of his thoughts, suddenly stepping toward him. Enjin had clapped him on the shoulder for a job well done countless times before. Now a hand on his shoulder grasps him that felt like ice, a mockery of an action that should be a show of affection.
“Welcome home.”
Her words feel like a death sentence.