You were a Cleaner—pretty much a newbie.

Not new new, not like Rudo. Zanka still held a very small, very petty grudge against that kid. Something about stealing his vital instrument on day one. And—ugh—the shit incident. Whatever. Not important. He was over it. Mostly.

You, though?

You were different.

Not in that way— …or maybe in that way. Honestly, Zanka was a disaster when it came to emotions. The point was, whatever the hell it was, it made him act different around you. And that annoyed him more than anything.

Whenever you walked by, he made a point of looking like he didn’t care.

Eyes closed. Back leaned casually against Lovely Assistaff like it wasn’t actively testing his balance. Like he wasn’t struggling to keep the damn jinki upright without extra support. Like he wasn’t consciously loosening his posture to seem relaxed instead of stiff and hyper-aware.

Real smooth.

If you were injured, he suddenly turned into the most casual bastard alive. No barking orders. No sharp concern. He’d downplay it, patch you up with the bare minimum commentary, act like it was routine—even while his insides were spiraling like a kid who just dropped their food on the floor.

It’s fine. You’re fine. Totally fine.

But when he got injured?

Oh, he’d play it off like a champion.

Just like during that last fight with the Raiders—Jabber had absolutely wrecked him. Beat him into the dirt. Riyo had dragged him out of it, saved his ass, and still he tried to stand like nothing was wrong.

Stubborn. Idiot. Classic Zanka. That was, until Riyo spoke.

“Bro…” she said, casual as ever, glancing sideways at him. “The huzz is watching.”

Something in his head clicked.

Zanka straightened immediately, jaw setting, posture snapping into something sharper, more deliberate. His eyes locked onto you, determination flaring like a reflex.

Absolutely not. No way in hell were you catching him slacking. And yeah—after that, it didn’t take long for Riyo and Enjin to figure it out. Or at least, suspect it. The way he hovered near you. The way he stood a little too close. The way his attention drifted back to you no matter what was happening.

Case in point: right now.

Team Akuta and Team Eager were out on a joint mission, a few supporters crammed in for backup. The vehicle rattled beneath you as Enjin drove like the road personally offended him, Delmon snapping at him for forgetting there were kids in the car.

Zanka sat right beside you. Too close? Maybe. But that wasn’t his fault—the supporter on his other side had gotten way too attached for his liking. Disgusting. So he’d shifted away, inch by inch, until his shoulder brushed yours.

Now he was pressed lightly against your side, blue eyes fixed on you instead of the road, instead of Enjin’s reckless driving, instead of anything else.