Chapter Text
The clattering of metal trays and the loud, boisterous laughter of the Cleaners filled the base's spacious dining hall, though a palpable, invisible divide split the room entirely in two. On one side sat the visiting Hell Guards, their postures rigidly upright as they ate with the cold, mechanical precision of an active combat unit. On the other side, the Akuta crew claimed their usual territory, forming a tight, impenetrable circle of warmth and unyielding solidarity.
At the other side of the room sat Enjin, his large frame radiating an easy, dominant authority that anchored the entire group. Directly to his side sat Zanka, finding a safe haven within the tight seating arrangement. Flanking Zanka’s other side was Riyo, her sharp eyes occasionally scanning the room while maintaining a comforting, protective proximity to him. Sitting directly across from Zanka was Rudo, who was chewing his food in a heavy, defensive silence, his ruby eyes narrowing every time his gaze flicked toward the far corner of the hall where the Nijiku siblings were stationed like a little wolf protecting his family of the hunters.
On Enjin’s remaining free side sat Gris, his partner and the gentle leader of the supporters, looking like an unyielding wall of muscle and silent reassurance and warmth, completing their close-knit circle, Eisha sat right next to Riyo’s free side, her gentle presence acting as a grounding weight that kept the volatile energy of the table perfectly balanced.
The silent pressure radiating from the Hell Guards' table was suffocating, and Zanka could practically feel the icy, disapproving glares of Kyoka and Goka burning holes into his back. To the high-society Alphas of the Nijiku, seeing a member of their prestigious bloodline completely integrated into a pack of "lower-world strays" was an absolute insult to their pristine military standards.
Sensing the lingering tension in Zanka’s shoulders, Enjin let out a low, amused chuckle, deliberately tossing an extra portion of food onto the boy's tray with a booming voice that purposefully echoed across the room. Across the table, Rudo caught Zanka's eye, offering a blunt, supportive nod while his scent flared with a fierce, protective warmth, a sentiment quietly mirrored by the soft smile Eisha sent his way.
Surrounded entirely by his chosen family and enveloped in the dense, protective pheromones of his true manada, Zanka let out a quiet breath, finally relaxing his posture as he completely ignored the sterile stares of his biological past.
The silence from the Hell Guards' table grew sharper, a contrast to the lively clatter of the Cleaners' side of the room. Kyoka Nijiku didn't touch her food. Her fingers remained tightly wrapped around her utensil, her knuckles turning white as she watched the display of casual affection and pack solidarity across the room to her, every smile Zanka shared with his squad mates, every protective tilt of Enjin's head, was a direct rejection of the Nijiku name.
Her little brother sat beside her, Goka's face an unreadable mask of military discipline, but the subtle, tight set of his jaw betrayed his disgust. An Alpha from a noble house was supposed to command, to stand above, to lead through absolute authority—not huddle in a rowdy cafeteria, sharing space with supporters and relying on the raw, unrefined instincts of a street-born pack.
"Look at him," Goka murmured, his voice a low, dangerous hiss meant only for his sister's ears. "He sits there like a stray that's finally found a scrap of warmth. He’s completely forgotten who he is."
The stoic women didn't look at her remaining little brother, her voice flat and devoid of emotion. "He chose this path, Goka. Let him indulge in his delusions of family. The Nijiku Clan has no use for a soldier who allows his instincts to be tamed by a Lower World pack leader."
At the main table, Enjin's keen ears caught the shift in the air, his golden eyes sliding toward the siblings with a mocking glint. He didn't say a word, but he deliberately leaned closer to Zanka, his scent flaring just enough to remind everyone in the room exactly who Zanka belonged to now. Enjin was definitely enjoying this unique situation for the moment, without a doubt.
ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̽‿̩͙‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̽‿̩͙‿̩͙‿̩̩̽‿̩͙‿̩͙‿̩̩̽‿̩͙‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̽‿̩͙‘⸊ˎ
The lively clatter of the dining hall gradually faded into a quiet hum as the night crept in. One by one, the Cleaners stacked their trays and headed off to the barracks, leaving behind a sleepy, peaceful stillness.
The Hell Guards had retreated to their sterile quarters long ago, taking their chilling, suffocating atmosphere with them and allowing the base to finally breathe.
Enjin and Gris left after a low, murmured exchange, and Riyo headed out alongside Eisha, leaving the main table nearly empty. Zanka remained seated under the dim, warm lights of the cafeteria, completely motionless.
His cloth rested limply against the blue wood of his Lovely Staff, but he wasn't wiping it anymore. He was entirely lost in his own head, his mind trapped in a suffocating loop of his brother's icy glare and the heavy, unyielding weight of the Nijiku name. He was so completely detached from the present moment that he didn't even notice the table emptying, nor did he realize when Rudo quietly slipped away to the barracks to change out of his dirt-streaked uniform.
The sudden, heavy groan of the bench right next to him instantly shattered his trance, jarring him back to reality. Zanka blinked, turning his head in surprise to find Rudo already sitting there. The boy was clad in his oversized, slightly battered pajamas, his hands shoved aggressively deep into his pockets. His face was twisted into his trademark, bratty scowl, and his ruby eyes were fiercely locked onto a random knot in the wooden table, refusing to make direct contact.
His youthful milky pheromones were a chaotic, messy knot—brimming with his usual defensive rudeness, yet laced with a faint, timid trace of vulnerability he was trying desperately to suppress after seeing those guard invade their space.
"You're dragging your feet. It's annoying," Rudo grumbled, his tone sharp and demanding, like a spoiled kid throwing a tantrum just to mask his anxiety. He forcefully nudged Zanka’s knee with his own, settling closer than usual.
A soft, amused chuckle escaped Zanka’s throat, the lingering chill of his thoughts dissolving as his soothing aroma of wood and incense flared gently to envelope the tense boy. "The night is young, Rudo. Why aren't you asleep yet?"
Rudo’s shoulders bunched up tightly, a stubborn, burning flush creeping up his neck. He bit the inside of his cheek, his fierce pride warring visibly with the deeply buried, protective need for security that the Nijiku siblings had disrupted earlier that day. He absolutely loathed looking weak, but the thought of sleeping alone with the shadows of the cruel world lurking under the same roof made his chest tighten painfully.
"Whatever. I'm just saying..." Rudo muttered, burying his face into the high collar of his shirt to hide his red cheeks, his voice dropping to a barely audible, grumpy whisper. "...The barracks are stupidly loud tonight. And your mattress is less trash than mine."
Zanka’s piercing blue eyes softened, a wave of immense warmth settling over him. He knew his adoptive little brother inside and out; Rudo didn't know how to ask for comfort with soft words. His way of looking for a safe haven was a rough shove, a click of the tongue, and a bratty complaint.
"Is that so?" Zanka murmured gently, a genuine smile gracing his features. He reached over, placing a firm, reassuring hand on the back of Rudo’s messy white hair, applying just enough pressure to anchor the boy to his side. "Then I guess I'll have to let you use it. Let's go."
Rudo let out a loud, dramatic tch, rolling his eyes as if he were being profoundly inconvenienced, but he didn't pull away from Zanka’s hand for a single second. Instead, he stubbornly pressed his shoulder against his older brother's arm as they both stood up, sticking to him like glue as they walked out of the dim hall.
The heavy metal doors of the dining hall clicked shut behind them, cutting off the vast, empty shadows of the cafeteria and leaving the lingering chill of the Sphere far behind.
As they walked down the dim, concrete corridors of the Cleaner barracks, the silence between them wasn't the suffocating, tense kind from earlier in the afternoon. Instead, it was a familiar, grounding quiet. Rudo kept his hands shoved aggressively into his pajama pockets, his shoulders still hunched over in a display of bratty defiance, but his pace perfectly matched Zanka’s steady, even strides.
When they finally reached Zanka's quarters, the door slid open with a soft, mechanical hiss. The room was simple, practical, and unpretentious—the exact opposite of the pristine, sterile luxury Zanka had grown up with in the high-society households of the Sphere.
Before heading to the bed, Zanka carefully set his Lovely Staff against the wall right beside the nightstand, ensuring it was within arm's reach. Feeling the heavy grime of a long day of training and the suffocating weight of the afternoon's tension still clinging to his skin, he grabbed a clean towel.
"I'm going to clean up first," Zanka said softly, nodding toward the small attached bathroom. "Don't fall asleep on the floor."
Rudo let out a sharp, annoyed tch, clicking his tongue loudly. "Whatever. Hurry up, you're wasting time," he grumbled, though he immediately marched over to the mattress, kicked off his worn-out slippers with a loud thud, and sat on the edge of the bed, crossing his arms impatiently.
Zanka disappeared into the bathroom, shutting the door. He washed his face with cold water, letting the icy shock fully break the lingering trance of the clan Nijiku’s disapproval. He quickly washed away the sweat and dust from the training yard, changing into his own comfortable sleepwear. By the time he stepped back into the bedroom, wiping his damp hair with the towel, the heavy, dark thoughts that had plagued him in the dining hall had completely evaporated.
He tossed the towel aside and walked over to the bed. Rudo was still sitting there, staring intensely at his own knees, his youthful pheromones still carrying a faint, restless trace of the day's anxiety.
Without a word, Zanka reached down. Instead of just guiding him by the hair this time, his large, calloused fingers gently but firmly wrapped around Rudo’s hand.
Rudo flinched slightly at the sudden contact, his ruby eyes snapping up in surprise. He instinctively tried to pull back for a split second, his fierce, independent pride flaring up, but Zanka’s grip remained steady, warm, and unyielding. It was a silent, powerful reassurance—an unbreakable physical bond between adoptive brothers that no high-society Alpha could ever touch. Sensing the absolute safety in that hold, Rudo’s hand relaxed, his fingers subtly tightening back around Zanka's hand with a fierce, possessive grip.
Holding his hand, Zanka flicked the wall switch with his other, plunging the room into a soft, amber darkness illuminated only by the faint moonlight filtering through the high window.
Together, they climbed onto the mattress. As they slid under the covers, Zanka finally let go of Rudo's hand, and almost instantly, the white-haired boy stubbornly rolled over, pressing his back firmly against Zanka's side. It was a rough, uncoordinated movement, but the intent was unmistakable.
Wrapped in the safety of their shared space, Zanka let out a long, slow exhale. His grounding pheromones of wood and incense flared naturally, wrapping around the pup like a protective shield. In response, the sharp, sour edge of defensive jealousy in Rudo's scent finally began to soften, smoothing out into a calm, peaceful rhythm.
"Hey, Zanka," Rudo muttered into the darkness after a long silence, his tone unusually quiet, the bratty armor dropping just a fraction.
"Yeah?" Zanka replied softly, staring up at the ceiling.
"Those people from earlier... the ones who look like you," Rudo paused, his fingers tightening against the blanket, his fierce, protective nature leaking through. "They're stupid. Don't look at them anymore. You're part of this crew."
Zanka’s eyes widened slightly in the dark, touched by the raw, unrefined loyalty of the kid. A genuine, warm smile broke across his face, and he reached out, placing his hand firmly on the top of Rudo’s messy white hair, giving it an affectionate squeeze.
"I try," Zanka promised, his voice steady, carrying the absolute certainty of an older brother who had made his choice long ago. "I'm right here, Rudo. Go to sleep."
Rudo let out a small, satisfied grunt, his body finally relaxing completely as he drifted off, completely anchored by the heavy, protective presence of the brother he had chosen to defend.
Right at three in the morning, a soft, repetitive tapping against the glass of the window caused Zanka to slowly open his blue eyes, instantly alert. The distinctive rhythm of the sound was all too easy for the Omega to recognize, sending a cold wave of irritation straight through him. Letting out a soft, nearly silent sigh of sheer exhaustion, he began to carefully shift his weight. He managed to masterfully slip away from the pup’s fierce, protective grip, replacing his own warmth with a rolled-up corner of the blanket so Rudo wouldn't realize he was gone.
Stepping across the cold floor with the practiced, silent grace of a fighter, he approached the window. He pulled back the heavy curtains with a deeply tired, tight grimace, only to be met with exactly what he feared.
Staring back at him monotonically through the glass was Jabber Wonger, crouching on the ledge outside. The twisted Alpha was smiling widely at him, his expression carrying the terrifying, unhinged edge of a predator who had finally tracked down its favorite prey.
"Zan-Zan~ it's about time you let me see your beautiful face!" Jabber purred, his muffled voice dripping with a sickeningly sweet devotion that made the air in the room feel instantly heavy. "What took you so long to see me? I know it excites me when you hurt me, but I'd much rather you just skip the waiting and hit me right now~"
"Come out, let's play Mr. Bad Attitude," Jabber’s voice dropped into a deeper, highly possessive tone, thick with fervent emotions that Zanka couldn't quite identify. But inside those sharp, fuchsia eyes, the raw intensity of a dark obsession or an overwhelming, twisted love was blindingly clear. Zanka wasn't entirely sure what he was looking at in the Alpha's striking eyes, and frankly, he didn't care to figure it out.
"No. Go home, Jabber," Zanka replied coldly, a flat rejection as he crossed his arms tightly over his chest. At no point did his piercing blue eyes break away from the Alpha's frantic fuchsia gaze.
"I don't want to! I want to be with you, Zanka~... wait, you're not alone, are you?"
Jabber's eyes darted instantly past Zanka's shoulder, narrowing analytically as they locked onto the Omega's bed. His gaze scanned the mattress with a sudden, predatory edge, desperate to figure out exactly who was sleeping inside the space he so fiercely claimed as his own.
"That shouldn't be important. What I see as more urgent is for you to get the hell out of here... I knew you were crazy, but I didn't expect you to be insane enough to come straight to your enemy's base," the Omega's voice grew strictly serious as he took a deliberate step forward, planting himself right in the Alpha's line of sight and completely blocking him from catching another glimpse of the bed.
"...Is that really important? The fact that we're on opposing sides isn't going to make the love I feel for you vanish, Zanka. If anything, it makes it so much more exciting!" Jabber laughed stridently, leaning his weight even closer against the window glass.
A slow, burning blush crept up Zanka's cheeks, coloring his ears and traveling down his neck at the sheer audacity of the Alpha's words. Yet, his brow furrowed even deeper as a heavy grimace of disgust crossed his face, fiercely refusing to admit to himself that such a ridiculous confession had actually sparked a fleeting warmth inside his chest.
"You are unbearable," Zanka muttered, his voice cold despite the heat on his skin.
"It’s part of my charm... the charm that’s going to make you my Omega and my husband, Zan-Zan!~ After all, we’re made for each other. We complement each other beautifully, and—"
Zanka watched the Alpha ramble on, but with every word that spilled from Jabber's mouth, the blue-haired boy inevitably felt himself growing more and more self-conscious. No one had ever spoken to him with such unique, unfiltered intensity. To be fair, no Alpha in particular had ever really shown a genuine interest in him, let alone found him attractive... except for Jabber.
But Zanka’s train of thought was cut short, and he raised an eyebrow when the Alpha suddenly fell dead silent. Jabber’s fuchsia eyes widened slightly as his gaze locked onto something directly behind Zanka. The Omega silently prayed to whatever gods were listening that Rudo hadn't woken up. But really, since when did he ever have any good luck?
Turning around quickly, Zanka was met with the sight of the pup’s ruby eyes stretched completely wide in sheer, unadulterated shock. Rudo’s entire focus was pinned on the Alpha perched outside the glass. Breaking the stunned quiet, Jabber suddenly began to laugh like an absolute lunatic—well, which he technically was.
"Well, if it isn't my friend Rudo! Hey there, little boy~ Keeping my Omega company like a good little brother? Wait... that would make us brothers-in-law! How hilarious!"
Rudo didn't say a single word in response. Instead, the white-haired boy practically shot out of the bed and bolted right out of the room, leaving the two older men in a stunned, heavy silence. Neither of them had expected the hot-tempered pup to just run away like that.
"...What a boring reaction!" Jabber whined, pouting against the glass.
"Shut up, Jabber!" Zanka snapped, his voice tight with sudden panic as his protective instincts flared violently, his mind racing to figure out what his erratic little brother was about to do.
"Ah~! Yes! Keep treating me so aggressively, my beloved Omega! Come on, come on, make me shut up!" Jabber’s unhinged, blatantly lustful smile stretched even wider as his fuchsia eyes gleamed with pure ecstasy. Zanka inevitably flushed a deep scarlet all over again, completely thrown off by the Alpha's shameless moan and feverish excitement.
"Y-you! You filthy, shameless psycho!" Thoroughly enraged and reduced to a blushing mess of sheer embarrassment, Zanka grabbed his Jinki. His hands gripped the smooth blue wood of his **Lovely Staff** with deadly intent before he forcefully threw the window open. Jabber let out an ecstatic yelp, fully convinced that Zanka was finally going to 'play' with him.
That was, until the bedroom door was aggressively kicked open.
The violent bang made both of them jump in their tracks. Jabber, who had already managed to sneak half of his body through the window frame, and Zanka, who stood with his Jinki active and ready to bash the Alpha's skull in, both spun around in absolute shock.
Standing in the doorway was Enjin. His golden eyes were glowing with a terrifying intensity, his Jinki, Umbreaker, already active and gripped firmly in his hand. The father-figure of the Cleaners looked completely furious, a dangerous aura radiating off his frame.
Right behind him stood Rudo...
The look on Enjin's face was exactly like a fed-up owner who had just caught his two chaotic cats in the middle of a midnight brawl.
"Get the hell away from my kid's room, you unhinged Raider bastard!" Enjin roared.
Zanka was absolutely certain that the older Alpha's shout echoed through every single concrete corridor of the entire Cleaner barracks. The sheer volume was deafening, but it was immediately answered by Jabber’s shrill, manic laughter as the intruder quickly scrambled backward and tumbled out of the window frame.
Enjin didn't waste a single heartbeat. The blonde Alpha stormed across the room, shoving his way past Zanka to reach the window ledge, his golden eyes blazing down into the dark courtyard below.
Down on the floor, Jabber was already on his feet. He looked up, waving his arms effusively in a theatrical goodbye while his deadly Jinki, Mankira, gleamed with a dangerous, active light in his hands.
"Bye-bye, Mary Poppins! Next time, try not to interrupt my fun~... Wait, does this mean I should be calling you father-in-law?" Jabber yelled back, his twisted grin practically visible even in the dim moonlight.
Seeing Enjin's grip tighten on Umbreaker as the older man genuinely threatened to dive straight out of the window after him, Jabber let out another burst of unhinged, delighted laughter. Without waiting for the furious boss to actually make good on the threat, the Raider turned on his heel and bolted into the shadows of the surrounding thoroughly amused by the absolute chaos he had left behind.
Enjin slammed the window shut so hard the glass rattled in its frame, locking it with a sharp, furious twist of his wrist. He let out a long, heavy breath, his glowing golden eyes slowly dimming back to their natural shade as he deactivated Umbreaker. The suffocating, protective Alpha pressure he had radiated just seconds ago began to settle, though his shoulders remained tense with lingering anger.
He turned around slowly, crossing his arms over his chest as his sharp gaze fell right on Zanka.
Zanka stood frozen in the middle of the room, still holding his lovely staff in a white-knuckled grip. The deep crimson blush from Jabber's shameless teasing hadn't fully faded from his face, but now it was mixed with the sheer, agonizing embarrassment of having Enjin—the closest thing he had to a father—witness the entire scandalous spectacle. His wood and incense pheromones were a chaotic, spikes-and-edges mess of mortification and defensive pride.
"A father-in-law?" Enjin repeated, raising a single blonde eyebrow, his voice dropping into a flat, incredibly dry tone. "Care to explain why a high-ranking, completely psychotic Raider is lurking outside your window at three in the morning asking for my blessing, Zanka?"
"It's not what it looks like!" Zanka blurted out, his voice cracking slightly before he quickly cleared his throat, desperately trying to regain his usual stoic, prideful composure. He deactivated his Jinki, leaning the blue staff against the wall with shaking hands. "He's insane. I didn't invite him here, he just... he tracks me down! I was about to break his jaw before you kicked the door down!"
From behind Zanka's frame, Rudo slowly peeked into the room. The pup's ruby eyes were darting back and forth between Zanka's bright red face and the locked window. The initial shock that had caused him to bolt for help had finally worn off, replaced by his usual bratty, suspicious scowl. He crossed his arms, huffing loudly.
"I told you he was acting weird," Rudo muttered, glaring at Zanka with a mix of betrayal and annoyance. "You were acting all mopey in the cafeteria, and then some creepy, loud-mouthed trash-human shows up at your window calling you 'his Omega.' You have terrible taste, Zanka."
"I don't have taste because I don't like him!" Zanka snapped defensively, his face burning hotter as he glared at the kid. "And you! Why did you go fetch Enjin instead of helping me fight him?!"
"Because you were blushing like a total idiot!" Rudo shot back, pointing an accusing finger at him. "I thought he broke your brain with some weird boundary-holder ability! How was I supposed to know you just get shy when people yell stupid things at you?!"
"I was not shy, I was disgusted!"
"Alright, that's enough, both of you," Enjin interrupted, raising a hand to cut off the bickering siblings before they could wake up the entire eastern wing of the barracks. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, letting out a deeply exhausted, fatherly sigh. "Zanka, go wash your face. You look like a tomato. Rudo, go grab your pillow from the floor, you two are coming to my room"
Enjin walked over to the center of the room, checking the window lock one last time just to be safe. "Tomorrow I'll take care of changing your room, Zanka. I won't leave you in a room where that lunatic knows where you sleep...If that lunatic managed to slip through the blind spots just to play Romeo, our security is a joke." He paused, looking back at Zanka with a softer, albeit still slightly amused expression. "But seriously... Mary Poppins?"
Zanka buried his face in his hands, letting out a pathetic, muffled groan. "Please just let me die."