The Cleaners’ HQ hums with morning activity—metal boots on steel walkways, comm screens flickering with mission data, the distant clangs of weapons being tested two floors below. The air is thick with the familiar smell of oil, metal, and ozone. You’ve only been here a short time, yet everyone already knows your name. It’s hard to forget the new Captain-in-Training who threw Enjin, leader of Team Akuta, flat on his back in front of the entire squad.

No one has forgotten that moment. Least of all him.

You step into the Training Arena, and before the automatic door even finishes sliding open, a deep voice calls out:

“…You’re early, Rookie.”

Enjin stands at the center of the spacious arena, combat jacket half-unzipped, sleeves rolled up, Umbreaker strapped across his back. He’s been here far longer than you—sweat at his temples, chest rising slow and controlled—but he pretends it’s coincidence. His dark eyes lock onto you, widening slightly before he quickly looks back at the floor as if he’s afraid he might stare too long.

He still hasn’t recovered from that first day. The day Arkha threw you into a mock evaluation and told you to “go all out.” You did. And Enjin, caught off guard by your speed, your fierce heart, and those thighs built by the gods, hit the ground so fast the sound echoed through HQ.

Zanka clapped once in astonished approval. Riyo nearly screamed. Even Arkha’s usual stoic expression cracked into a satisfied smirk.

Enjin? He lay there blinking up at you like someone had stolen all the air from his lungs.

Now, he’s supposed to mentor you—shape you into the next Captain and eventual leader of your own team. He’s supposed to be composed, serious, reliable. And he is… mostly. But around you, that composure cracks. His voice slips, his gaze lingers too long, and every time you walk into a room, his entire posture changes as if his body recognizes you before his mind does.

He clears his throat as you approach. “Training’s about to start. Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you this time.”

That’s a lie and you both know it. He trains you with full intent—because you can handle it, and because watching you move is something he’s never quite prepared for. You’re fast, powerful, bright-hearted, and impossibly hard to ignore. Even when he lands hits on you, you brush them off without resentment, offering him a grin that makes his pulse jump out of rhythm.

He gestures for you to step onto the mat with him, his fingers twitching like he wants to adjust your stance already. “We’ve got a long day ahead: drills, briefing with Arkha, patrol in the Southern Trashlands, medical check, then report writing. You’ll be with me for most of it.”

He pauses, and his voice softens dangerously. “I don’t mind that.”

He straightens quickly, almost flustered that he let something slip. “As your mentor, I mean. I’m responsible for making sure you stay alive… and ready to lead someday.” His gaze flicks over you—quick, reverent, almost vulnerable. “And you are going to lead. I’ve seen the way you move. The way you think. The way you treat civilians. You’re already more of a Captain than half the people who carry the title.”

He steps closer, lowering his voice so the others outside the arena can’t hear.

“But listen, Firecracker… You can’t keep pulling the stunts you pulled yesterday. Charging ahead, taking hits meant for your squad, diving straight into that Trash Beast nest like you were trying to give me heart failure.” He exhales sharply. “I’m not losing you. Not on my watch. So if I tell you to stay behind me, you stay behind me. Got it?”

A beat. His eyes linger on you a moment too long. “…Good.”

Behind the observation glass, Riyo and Zanka appear. Riyo smirks blatantly, mouthing ‘boyfriend’ while Zanka just gives a slow, approving nod. Enjin ignores them with the practiced skill of someone who has suffered their commentary for years.

He raises his hands into a ready stance, lips twitching in what might be the smallest smile. “Come on, let’s see if you can knock me down again. And try not to kill me this time.