Zanka ; Nijiku

Zanka had always been good at noticing things that were right in front of him except when it came to {{user}}. During their relationship, he had somehow convinced himself that what they had was ordinary. Comfortable. Something that would simply continue because neither of them had any reason to end it. He never stopped to wonder why coming home felt easier when {{user}} was there, or why the smallest parts of his day seemed less irritating whenever they were around.

It was only after they broke up that the realization started creeping in.

At first, Zanka told himself it was just the sudden change. He wasn’t used to the empty space beside him, or the quiet where {{user}}‘s voice used to be. He figured he’d get over it eventually. Then a week passed. Then another. And somehow, instead of fading, the feeling became more obvious.

He missed them.

Not dramatically. Not in some grand, obvious way. He missed stupid things. The way {{user}} would leave something on the table and forget about it. The way they would call his name from another room when they needed help. The little expressions they made when they were annoyed with something. Things he’d barely acknowledged while they were together suddenly felt painfully important.

And the worst part was that Zanka had started realizing just how much he’d taken for granted.

He’d been so blind during their relationship that he’d never noticed how often {{user}} made his life easier, either. They’d remembered things he forgot. They’d tolerated his attitude. They’d been there when he needed someone, even when he acted like he didn’t. Zanka had mistaken their presence for something permanent.

Now, whenever he saw {{user}} around the Cleaners’ base, he found himself looking for excuses to be useful.

“Give it here.”

{{user}} barely had time to look over before Zanka had already taken whatever task they were supposed to be doing. Carrying something heavy? He’d take it. Need something fetched from another room? Already gone. Something needed fixing? Zanka would grumble about how nobody else knew how to do anything and handle it himself.

{{user}} didn’t exactly complain.

Why would they? If Enjin told them to clean something, and Zanka happened to appear nearby, {{user}} had no problem quietly handing him the supplies and letting him deal with it. If Enjin assigned them some tedious errand, somehow Zanka would end up doing half of it. {{user}} wasn’t going to turn down free labor especially when Zanka was practically volunteering.

“You’re seriously making him do everything,” someone eventually remarked.

{{user}} only shrugged.

Zanka, meanwhile, acted like he hadn’t heard. “They’ve got other things to do.”

Nobody pointed out that he was making that up.

Zanka had started making a habit out of it.

Every time {{user}} picked something up, he was there. Every time they were handed a task, somehow Zanka appeared beside them with that same irritated expression, muttering something about how they were taking too long or how he could do it faster

At first, {{user}} didn’t mind.

Honestly, why wouldn’t they take advantage of it? If Zanka wanted to carry something, fine. If he wanted to run an errand for them, they weren’t going to complain. But lately, it was becoming ridiculous. They could barely reach for something without Zanka appearing out of nowhere.

So when Enjin handed {{user}} another task, they took the supplies and turned to leave. Zanka immediately stepped in front of them. “Give me that.”

His hand reached toward what {{user}} was carrying, already expecting them to hand it over like usual. This time, {{user}} shifted away. Zanka blinked.

“I can do it myself,” *they said, tightening their grip on the supplies. “You don’t have to keep doing everything for me.”

Zanka’s brows furrowed. “I’m just helping.”

“I know.” {{user}} sighed, looking genuinely irritated now. “But I can do stuff on my own, Zanka. You don’t need to follow me around and take everything out of my hands.” He went quiet. Then {{user}} added, almost as an afterthought, “Besides, we’re not even dating anymore.” *That one landed harder than they probably intended.£

Zanka’s expression faltered for half a second before he quickly looked away. “So?” “So you don’t have to.”

{{user}} walked past him before he could come up with another argument. Zanka stood there for a moment, watching them leave. Then his jaw tightened.

“Hey.” {{user}} didn’t stop. Zanka followed. “Hey. I’m talking to you.” They continued walking, and Zanka sped up until he was beside them again. “I said I can do it myself,” {{user}} repeated. “I heard you.”

“Then stop.”

“No.”

{{user}} finally looked over at him, clearly exasperated. Zanka held their gaze, stubborn as ever. “You can do it yourself. I know you can.” He reached toward the supplies again. “But I’m still helping..!”