Chapter Text
The moment both hands of the clock clicked perfectly into place at five, Zanka was already moving. He didn’t wait for the usual end-of-day formalities, didn’t finish typing the last line of his report, didn’t even bother to close the folders stacked neatly on his desk. He logged out in one swift motion, grabbed his bag, and strode out, murmuring quick, distracted goodbyes to Follo and Tomme as he passed their desks. They exchanged knowing, amused glances—they’d never seen the Zanka Nijiku move this fast for anything, not even when the manager was hurrying him up.
He walked out of the glass doors of the office building and immediately broke into a brisk, purposeful pace toward the bus stop. The afternoon air was warm and thick with the hum of the city, but he barely noticed. His mind was already three kilometers away, back in his apartment, fixed on that small, lonely heap of fur he’d watched on his phone screen during lunch. Every second felt like an hour, every stop the bus made felt unnecessary, agonizingly slow. When the vehicle finally pulled up to his stop, he was the first one off, walking so fast he was nearly jogging, his long legs eating up the pavement until his building loomed into view.
He pressed the elevator button repeatedly, as if sheer will could make it arrive faster, and when the doors finally slid open, he stepped inside, pressing his floor number hard with his thumb. The ride up felt endless. His heart was thudding hard in his chest, a mix of guilt, longing, and that strange, fierce affection that had taken root so suddenly in his orderly life.
When he reached his floor, the hallway was quiet. He strode to his door, the moment his key slot in the keyhole, then came the sound—faint, scratchy, frantic—even before the doors had fully opened.
Skritch
Skritch
Yip!
Yip!
Zanka’s face softened completely, the sharp, professional lines melting away. He unlocked the door and pushed it open, and instantly, a blur of white and charcoal fur exploded toward him. Rudo was bouncing, spinning in tight circles, tiny paws tapping frantically against the floor, tail wagging so hard his whole rear end wiggled with it. His mouth was open, pink tongue lolling out, high, happy barks echoing through the entryway, every sound saying 'You came back! You really came back!'
Zanka stepped inside and shut the door, leaning back against it for a second just to watch him, his chest tight with emotion. He crouched down, and immediately Rudo launched himself upward, scrambling up his legs until Zanka caught him, lifting him easily and tucking him close against his chest. The puppy buried his face in the crook of Zanka’s neck, licking feverishly at his skin, soft whimpers of joy vibrating against his collarbone.
“Easy, easy… I’m here. I’m right here” Zanka murmured, wrapping both arms around him, holding him tight. He rubbed his chin over the top of Rudo’s head, fingers sinking into that soft, fluffy coat that August had worked so hard to make neat—already slightly tousled again, perfect and messy.
“I didn’t leave you. I told you I’d come back, didn't I?”
Rudo made a noise like a squeaky toy, nuzzling deeper, refusing to let go even when Zanka tried to shift his hold. He was finally getting a little weight, solid with health now, but still so small, so fragile. Zanka carried him into the living room, and for the rest of the evening, Rudo didn’t move more than a foot away.
It was startling, just how attached he had become. Before, he’d been stubborn, independent, feisty, usually a step behind Zanka. Now, he was like a magnet, constantly drawn back to Zanka’s side. When Zanka went to the kitchen to make dinner—simple rice and seasoned chicken, something soft and easy to digest—Rudo trotted right behind him, sitting directly on his foot while he chopped ingredients.
When Zanka set his own plate on the table, he had to place Rudo’s bowl right on the floor beside his chair, because the puppy would stand on his hind legs, front paws against his knee, staring up with those big, glowing red eyes, refusing to eat a single bite on his place in the kitchen, unless Zanka was right there, watching, talking to him, even just breathing the same air.
“Okay, okay, I get it” Zanka said with a soft huff, sliding his chair back slightly so Rudo could lean against his shin while he ate.
“You’re not letting me out of your sight ever again, are you?”
Rudo paused mid-chew, tail thumping once against the floor, as if to say 'damn right'.
Even showering became a negotiation.
Zanka turned on the water, and as soon as he stepped into the bathroom, Rudo was right there, whining at the closed frosted door until Zanka sighed and pulled it back just enough so he could be seen. The puppy settled down on the bath mat, chin resting on his paws, eyes fixed unblinkingly on Zanka through the glass, as if terrified that if he looked away, his person might vanish again. Zanka felt ridiculous, standing naked under the warm spray with a tiny, fluffy audience, but the thought of leaving him outside alone made his chest ache too much to argue.
He grew attached too.
Later, he sat at his desk, laptop open, going through the documents he’d brought home—work that usually demanded his full focus, but tonight felt secondary to the warm, solid weight curled up on his lap. Rudo was half-asleep, body limp and heavy, but every time Zanka shifted or moved his hands, the pup’s ears twitched, one eye cracking open just to check, before closing again, reassured.
Zanka leaned back in his chair, one hand resting idly on Rudo’s back, fingers moving slowly through the soft fur. He thought back to lunch, to Tomme’s suggestion, to the way Rudo had waited for hours, curled up alone by the door, heartbroken and convinced he’d been abandoned. He couldn’t let that happen again. It broke something inside him just remembering it.
He reached for his phone, pulling up the name Tomme had given him.
Cleaner’s Daycare
He typed it into his laptop’s search bar, leaning forward, his expression turning serious, analytical—the part of him that assessed risks, weighed options, made careful decisions. But this wasn’t a business investment, this was for Rudo.
The page loaded, bright and cheerful, filled with photos and clear descriptions. He read carefully, absorbing every detail.
Cleaner’s Daycare: Safe, fun, and loving care for your pets while you work or play. Open Monday to Saturday, 8:00 AM – 7:00 PM. Fully supervised, climate-controlled facilities, designed to keep your dog happy, healthy, and socialized.
He scrolled down, reading about what they offered. They had separate play areas—indoor and outdoor—divided by size, age, and temperament, so small dogs wouldn’t be overwhelmed or knocked around by larger, more energetic ones. There were soft mats and padded flooring everywhere, safe and gentle on paws and joints. Outside, there was a fully fenced yard with grass and shaded spots, toys, ramps, and tunnels to climb and explore. Inside, there were quiet rooms with cozy beds and soft lighting for rest times, because they understood that even the most playful pups needed downtime.
Services included structured play sessions, supervised group interactions to build confidence and good manners, enrichment activities like puzzle toys, scent games, and gentle training exercises—basic commands, recall, how to play nicely with others. They fed meals according to owner instructions, gave fresh water constantly, and had staff trained to watch for signs of stress or discomfort, stepping in immediately if any dog seemed upset or overwhelmed. Everything was cleaned and sanitized multiple times a day, safe and hygienic, no mess or germs. They even had cameras installed, so owners could check in anytime, just like he did with his own security system.
Zanka clicked through the gallery. Photos showed bright, happy spaces, a room full of small dogs running and tumbling together, another with bigger breeds playing tug-of-war, a quiet corner where several puppies were curled up asleep on soft blankets. There were staff members smiling, kneeling down to pet or play, looking gentle and attentive. One photo showed a tiny Pomeranian, not much bigger than Rudo, sitting happily on a worker’s lap, tongue out, looking perfectly content.
He felt Rudo shift on his lap, standing up on his hind legs, front paws resting on Zanka’s arm, stretching his neck to peer curiously at the screen, head tilted all the way to one side, red eyes wide and confused. He didn’t understand the pictures, didn’t know what the bright colors and shapes meant, but he knew Zanka was looking at it, so it must be important.
Zanka chuckled softly, scratching behind those soft, triangular ears.
“You see this, little guy?” he murmured, pointing at the screen, even though Rudo couldn’t read.
“This is a place where you can go while I’m at work. Lots of other dogs. People who know how to take care of you. You can run, play, eat, sleep… and you won’t have to wait alone by the door anymore”
Rudo let out a short, questioning yip, tail giving one small, confused wag. He didn’t get it, but the tone of Zanka’s voice was calm, warm, reassuring, so he leaned into the touch, trusting him completely.
Zanka scrolled further, reading reviews.
“My dog used to be so anxious when I left, now he pulls me to the door every morning! He loves it here!”
“Staffs are amazing (especially the hunky blonde with dimples), they know every dog by name and personality. I never worry when I dropping off my baby!”
“Our rescue was shy and scared, now he’s confident and happy. Best decision we ever made!”
He thought about it carefully. Rudo was still skittish, still wary of strangers and new things—he’d snapped at almost everyone they’d met so far, from Eisha to Alice to August. But he was also brave, and he was desperate for connection. Being alone all day wasn’t just boring for him, it was hurting him. It was making him anxious, making him clingy, making him afraid that every goodbye was permanent.
This place… it could help. He’d be with other dogs, learn that not everyone was a threat, that there were good people besides Zanka. He’d be busy, tired, happy, instead of sitting in silence, waiting. And Zanka would be able to work without his heart twisting in his chest every hour, wondering if Rudo was okay, if he was sad, if he thought he’d been abandoned.
“They take them in at eight, and stay open until seven” Zanka said softly, mostly to himself, but Rudo listened, ears pricked.
“I can drop you off on my way by eight-thirty, just enough time to get to the office—and pick you up right after I finish. Perfect timing”
He looked down at the puppy, at that messy, beautiful fur, at those bright, trusting eyes that looked at him like he was the whole world. He thought about the alley, the rain, the cold cardboard box, the way Rudo had growled and snapped even when he was scared, refusing to give up. He thought about how far they’d come in just a few days, how much this little creature had already changed his life.
“I think this is going to be good for you” Zanka said, his voice thick with emotion.
“You need friends. You need things to do. And I need to know you’re safe and happy”
He nodded slowly, making up his mind completely. Cleaner’s Daycare allowed walk-ins, no appointment needed, just bring vaccination records and let them know about any special needs or habits. He had all of Rudo’s papers from the vet—Alice had given him a whole folder, thick and detailed. He’d take him tomorrow morning.
Zanka closed the laptop, setting it aside, and stood up, lifting Rudo easily into his arms. The puppy snuggled close, paws tucked under his chin, warm and light and precious. He walked toward the bedroom, slowing down when he reached the side of the bed.
He looked down at Rudo, who was already looking up at him, head tilted, eyes glowing in the soft lamplight, trusting, curious, completely his.
“Hmm” Zanka teased, voice low and playful, though his heart was full.
“I wonder… should I put you in your bed tonight? The big, fancy red one I bought you? All soft and fluffy, just for you? Would be a waste not to use it, nee~”
He made a motion as if to lower him toward the floor, and instantly Rudo squirmed, legs kicking, letting out a sharp, indignant bark, eyes wide and panicked, tiny paws clinging tighter to Zanka’s shirt, as if saying No! No down! No down! I stay with you!
Zanka laughed, a deep, warm sound that filled the quiet room, the kind of laugh he hadn’t made in years.
“Alright, alright, calm down, you little drama queen. I wasn’t really going to drop you”
He climbed into bed, settling back against the pillows, and pulled the duvet up, tucking Rudo right beside his chest, where he could feel the steady beat of Zanka’s heart, where he was warm and safe and close. The puppy immediately curled into a small, tight ball, nose tucked under his paw, body pressed firmly against Zanka’s side, not an inch of space between them.
Zanka lay there in the quiet dark, listening to the soft, rhythmic breathing, feeling the tiny rise and fall of Rudo’s ribs against his own. Outside, the city hummed and buzzed, lights twinkling far below, but here, in this room, everything was calm, everything was right.
Tomorrow would be new. Tomorrow would be different. There would be new people, new places, new things to learn and explore. There might be barking, maybe some fear, maybe even a little stubbornness and attitude—Rudo would definitely be Rudo, after all. But Zanka knew, with absolute certainty, that whatever happened, they would face it together.
He reached down, brushing a stray lock of fur from Rudo’s forehead, and whispered so softly only the puppy could hear.
“Sleep well, Rudo. Tomorrow’s a big day. But don’t worry… I’m always coming back for you”
The morning air was crisp and bright, the kind that promised a clear, sunny day, though Zanka hardly noticed. He stood before the glass doors of Cleaner’s Daycare, adjusting the strap of his work bag on one shoulder while securing the canvas bag slung over the other—where a small, indignant ball of fluff was currently shifting weight, huffing soft, irritable breaths.
It had been a battle just getting out the door. Zanka had tried, very patiently, to fasten the new red harness around Rudo’s chest, intending to walk him in properly, like a civilized pet. But Rudo had other plans. The moment the straps are secure around him, he had gone rigid, planted all four paws on the floor, and refused to move an inch. When Zanka had gently tugged the leash, the puppy had simply sat down, glared up at him with those burning red eyes, and let out a growl that sounded far too menacing for something that weighed barely more than a loaf of bread.
After five minutes of stubborn standoff—where Zanka had realized he was definitely losing the argument—he had sighed, given up, and reached for the familiar canvas bag again.
"Fine. Have it your way" Zanka had muttered, shaking his head as he settled the pup inside.
"You’re going to be carried like a very angry, very expensive handbag. Don’t look at me like that, you chose this, you little shit"
Now, standing at the entrance, he took a moment to compose himself, smoothing down the front of his suit, trying to look like the professional, capable adult he was supposed to be, rather than a man who had just wrestled a two apple tall puppy into a tote bag.
The daycare looked even better in person than it had online. The exterior walls were painted bright and welcoming, covered in cheerful murals depicting dogs of all breeds and sizes running, playing, and sleeping—colorful, lively scenes that immediately softened the edge of Zanka’s anxiety. As he pushed open the heavy glass doors, a wave of cool, conditioned air washed over him, carrying the sharp, clean scent of disinfectant mixed with the faint, natural smell of dogs—no mess, no dirt, just the fresh, well-cared-for atmosphere of a place that knew exactly what it was doing.
He stepped into the lobby, spacious and bright, with soft flooring under his shoes and comfortable-looking couches lining the walls. In the center, two large doors led deeper into the building, and from beyond them, he could hear the distant, happy sounds of barking, playful yips, and the scrabble of paws on the floor—the hum of a place alive with activity.
Zanka strode purposefully toward the reception desk, where a woman sat sorting through papers, her posture elegant and poised. Her nameplate read Semiu Grier, and as he approached, she lifted her head, her expression shifting from focused work to a warm, professional smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes behind circular glasses, sharp and observant.
"Good morning" she greeted, her voice smooth and calm, carrying that natural authority that made people feel immediately at ease, yet aware she was in charge.
"Welcome to Cleaner’s Daycare. How may I help you today?"
"Good morning" Zanka replied, returning the greeting with a polite nod.
"I'm Zanka Nijiku and I’d like to enroll my dog. He’s a puppy, only about two months old. I brought all the vaccination records and paperwork you require"
He shifted the canvas bag slightly on his shoulder, tilting it just enough so she could see the tiny head poking out from the top. Rudo’s ears were pricked high, his whole body tense, red eyes fixed intently on Semiu, studying her with a fierce, unblinking scrutiny, as if trying to decide right then and there if she was a threat or not.
Semiu’s eyebrows lifted in faint amusement, leaning forward slightly over the desk.
"Oh my… aren’t you a little thing?" she cooed softly, her tone gentle, soothing, though her eyes remained sharp, reading the pup’s body language perfectly. She lifted one hand, fingers extended slowly, giving him plenty of time to see and process the movement, offering her scent to him the way you would to a skittish, wary creature.
"Hello there, little one. You’re very small, aren’t you?"
For a second, Rudo just stared, his nose twitching. Then, suddenly, his lip curled back, and he let out a low, rumbling growl that vibrated through the fabric of the bag. Before Zanka could react, the puppy lunged forward, tiny jaws snapping shut inches from Semiu’s fingers—a sharp, warning snap that sounded far more dangerous than it actually was.
Semiu pulled her hand back swiftly, effortlessly, not even flinching, her smile never faltering. She’d been doing this long enough to know that teeth were just part of the job, especially with rescues or puppies who hadn’t quite learned the world was safe yet.
“Whoa, feisty! Got quite the guard dog already, huh?”
"Rudo!" Zanka gasped, horrified, his face flushing instantly with embarrassment. He reached up, gently but firmly pressing the pup back down into the bag, his voice stern but soft.
"No! We do not snap at people. That is rude. I am so sorry—he’s usually… well he's usually like this, but he’s very protective, and he doesn’t know you yet. I’m so sorry"
Rudo huffed loudly, turning his head away with all the dignity of a offended nobleman, retreating back into the depths of the canvas bag, like she was the one who did something wrong. Only his eyes visible, still glaring at the woman behind the desk.
Semiu laughed, a low, rich sound, waving Zanka’s apology away like it was nothing.
"Please, don’t worry about it. It happens more often than you’d think. Most dogs are wary of strangers at first—especially the ones who have had to fight for their place in the world. He’s just telling me he’s looking out for you, isn’t he? That’s a good sign, in its own way. Just means he’s got spirit"
She picked up a clipboard from the desk, sliding it across the smooth wood toward him, along with a pen.
"Here. If you could fill out these forms for me—basic information: his name, breed, age, anything we need to know about his health, his temperament, what he likes, what he’s afraid of, how he is with other dogs. Just so we can make sure he’s safe and happy while he’s here"
Zanka nodded, taking the clipboard and pen gratefully.
"Of course. Thank you"
He walked over to one of the plush couches, setting his heavy work bag down beside him before sitting, placing the canvas bag carefully on his lap. The moment he settled, Rudo popped his head out again, climbing up until his front paws rested on Zanka’s thigh, watching closely as his owner began to write, head tilted to the side, curious and confused by the scratching sound of the pen on paper.
Zanka worked his way through the forms efficiently.
Name: Rudo
Breed: Pomeranian mix
Age: 2 months
Temperament: Wary, stubborn, fiercely loyal, protective, can be aggressive when frightened or unsure
Medical history: Malnourished upon rescue, fully vaccinated and dewormed, currently healthy
As he wrote, Rudo’s gaze wandered, taking in the room again. It was different from the vet clinic—brighter, louder, filled with movement and scents. He could smell so many different dogs here: big ones, small ones, young ones, old ones. He could hear them too, barking and playing behind the double doors at the center of the room, sounds that made his ears swivel back and forth, unsure if they were friendly or dangerous.
Then, the entrance door opened again.
First came the dog. A small, beautiful red cocker spaniel trotted in confidently, her paws tapping lightly on the floor. She was glossy and well-groomed, shiny copper fur flowing as she moved, two bright green bows clipped neatly to each long ear, as well a collar with the same color, matching the vivid, intelligent green of her eyes. She didn’t hesitate, walking straight toward the reception desk, standing on her hind legs to rest her front paws on the wood, letting out a high, clear bark that sounded like a cheerful greeting.
Semiu smiled warmly down at her.
"Good morning to you too, Riyo. Sunch a good girl, as always. Someone looks very happy today"
Right behind her, a man sauntered in, yawning loudly, one hand running through messy, bright blonde hair. He looked relaxed, almost lazy, tattoos visible along his neck and shoulders as he shrugged off his coat, revealing a soft maroon sweater underneath. He stretched his arms over his head, movements loose and easy, radiating that laid-back, easygoing energy that seemed to follow him everywhere.
"Mornin’" Enjin said sleepily, his voice rough with drowsiness, giving Semiu a lazy, lopsided grin.
"Sorry we're a bit late, traffic was a mess—”
Semiu raised an eyebrow at him, tapping her pen against the desk with a sharp, rhythmic sound, her tone shifting from polite to strictly managerial.
"Enjin. You are twenty minutes late. Again. Gris is already inside with the morning group, handling the puppies all by himself while you stroll in like you own the place"
Enjin groaned, dragging a hand down his face, looking suddenly very much like a child caught misbehaving.
"C’mon, Semiu, give me a break! I said I was sorry, didn’t I? And then I couldn’t find Riyo’s bows—you know she refuses to leave the house without them! It’s a crisis, honestly"
Riyo, still standing by the desk, turned her head, watching the two of them bickering back and forth with a calm, amused expression, her tail giving slow, happy wags against the floor.
"And I brought you that coffee you like, see?”
He pulled a cup from behind his back, grinning, and Semiu just sighed, shaking her head, though she took it anyway.
"And FYI, I do owned this place. Well, co-owned, but you get the idea! I am your boss!"
"Shittiest boss I have ever had"
"Hey!"
Zanka finished filling out the last line of the form, clicking the pen shut. He stood up, hooking the canvas bag securely over one shoulder again, his work bag resting on the other, and walked back toward the desk, eyes scanning over the paper one last time to make sure he hadn’t missed anything important. He was always careful, always double-checking—didn’t like looking careless or unprepared.
Semiu stopped her reprimand as she saw him approach, straightening up.
"All done, Mr. Nijiku?"
"Yes, everything’s there" Zanka said, handing over the clipboard.
As he did, he glanced over, noticing Enjin for the first time. The blonde man had stopped whining, his attention now fully fixed on Zanka, his golden eyes studying him with an unreadable, intense focus—curious, assessing, sharp in a way that felt far deeper than just looking at a stranger.
Zanka's gaze shifted down, landing on Riyo, who was now sitting patiently, her tongue lolling out, panting softly, green eyes bright and friendly as she looked up at Zanka. Studying, looking, sniffing him.
Zanka offered her a small, polite smile, nodding down at her.
"Hello there. You’re very pretty, aren’t you?"
He stepped aside, moving closer to the desk as Semiu began to read through his forms, checking each line carefully.
Enjin still didn’t look away. He continued to stare, his expression shifting from curiosity to something else—confusion, maybe, or just that instinctive interest he always seemed to have in anyone or anything new. The weight of that gaze was heavy, and Zanka felt his brow twitch slightly, a faint, uncomfortable prickle running down his spine. He didn’t like being studied like that, didn’t like the feeling of being measured, weighed, and evaluated by someone he’d never met.
And Rudo, as always, felt every shift in his owner’s mood.
He popped his head out of the bag again, scrambling up until his front paws rested on the edge of the bag, his tiny body pressed tight against his owner's side. He looked up at Zanka first, red eyes searching his face, sensing the faint tension, the unease. Then he turned his head, locking eyes with the blonde man across them.
Enjin blinked, surprised, as the tiny white fluffball suddenly appeared, glaring at him with all the ferocity of a wild beast.
'Why’s he looking at my human like that?' Rudo thought, tail stiff, fur along his spine standing up.
'He’s looking too much. He’s too close. He’s making my human uncomfortable!'
He did it again—glanced at Zanka, checked his expression, then snapped his gaze back to Enjin. Once, twice, three times, until he made up his tiny, stubborn little mind.
He’s a threat. To my human. To us.
Rudo didn’t hesitate. He let out a low, warning rumble, deep in his chest, before barking—sharp, high-pitched, and furious—yipping loudly as if to say 'Stop looking at him! He’s mine! Back off!'
Zanka jumped, startled, his hand flying up to cup the pup’s body by the bag, holding him close to his chest to try and calm him down.
"Rudo! Hey, shh! What is it? What’s wrong?" He looked up at Enjin, his face burning hot with embarrassment again.
"I am so sorry—he’s still wary of strangers—"
But Rudo wasn’t listening. He was leaning as far out of the bag as he could, barking nonstop, every yap loud and sharp, eyes blazing.
'Don’t you dare look at him like that! He’s my person! You leave him alone!'
Enjin waves him off, laughing slightly. An easy going grin in his lips.
"No, no. It's fine. I understand. We get pups like that all the time—"
Down on the floor, Riyo frowned. Her ears went straight up, tail stopped wagging, and she stepped forward, head tilted, confused and indignant. She looked up at Enjin—her human—then at the little white dog barking his head off at him, and her own lips pulled back just a little.
'Hey!' she barked, loud and clear, stepping between Enjin and Zanka, paws planted firm.
'What do you think you’re doing?! That’s my human! You can’t yell at him!'
She let out a sharp, clear bark, loud and firm, her tail stiff, posture straight.
'Stop that! Be nice!'
Rudo went still for a second, surprised that something so small and pretty dared to answer him back. He looked down at her, then back up at Enjin, then down at her again. Then, he barked twice as loud, more insistent, more aggressive.
'You stay out of it! This is between him and me! He’s bothering my person!'
'He is NOT!' Riyo barked back, louder, green eyes flashing.
'He’s nice! He’s my person! Sure he can be annoying sometimes, but he's still nice! You stop yelling at him right now or I’ll—'
'Or you’ll what?!' Rudo snapped, yapping even louder, scrambling higher up over Zanka's arms, fur standing straight up all over his body.
'You don’t know anything! He was staring at him! He was making him uncomfortable! I’m protecting him!'
'He wasn’t doing anything!' Riyo argued, bouncing on her paws, ready to stand her ground.
'You’re just being mean! My human is the best! You leave him alone!'
Enjin crouched down immediately, hands outstretched to calm his dog, confusion written all over his face.
"Whoa, hey, Riyo, easy there baby girl, easy… what’s this about, huh? You never bark at strangers. You’re the polite one, remember? You’re supposed to be the good girl"
He was genuinely baffled. Riyo was the sweetest, most well-behaved dog he’d ever known. She was cautious, yes—she always took her time observing new people or new animals before approaching—but she was never aggressive, never loud, never started arguments. She preferred to keep her distance, watch, assess, and only step forward if she decided it was safe. But right now, she was practically vibrating with indignation, barking back at the tiny Pomeranian like they were old enemies.
Zanka was equally bewildered, holding Rudo tight, trying to hush him.
“Rudo, seriously—knock it off! He’s not doing anything! You’re being ridiculous!”
'I am NOT!' Rudo yapped, turning to look at Zanka, hurt and indignant.
'I’m protecting you! You're uncomfortable! He’s making you uncomfortable! I won’t let him bother you!'
Semiu watched the whole scene unfold from behind the desk, her pen paused over the paperwork, a soft, amused huff of laughter escaping her. She’d seen plenty of doggy standoffs, but this one—two puppies, barely bigger than cushions, having a full-blown shouting match while their owners looked on helplessly—was certainly one of the cutest.
Zanka was now turning slightly away, trying to shield Rudo, but the pup had climbed right onto his shoulder, standing tall, barking down at the cocker spaniel with every ounce of ferocity he possessed, tail stiff, fur standing on end.
'Don’t you come closer! Don’t you even think about it!'
Meanwhile, Enjin had to scoop Riyo up into his arms, holding her gently but firmly, when she crouched down, hindquarters wiggling, ready to launch herself straight at the bag.
“Whoa, easy! Easy, girl! No fighting—we don’t fight, remember?”
Still letting out small, indignant yips over his arms, her green eyes fixed on Rudo, clearly not ready to let the argument go.
'He started it! He was mean to you! I have to teach him a lesson!'
Both men looked at each other then, Enjin holding his growling, indignant spaniel, Zanka cradling his furious, protective fluffball, their expressions identical—helpless, confused, and more than a little bit amused despite themselves.
And there they stood, two strangers, while their dogs carried on their very loud, very serious argument, each one absolutely convinced they were right, each one ready to defend their human with every ounce of their tiny, fluffy strength.
'Apologize!' Rudo barked.
'You apologize! You started it, cotton candy!' Riyo barked back.
'Who you calling cotton candy!? You redhead wig!'
'Excuse you!?'
'You're paw-king excuse, gingersnaps!'
And neither of them was backing down.