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Zanka Nijiku was supposed to die tonight.
Someone put a bounty on his head. Big enough that people cared, everyone would. After all, he was nothing out of the ordinary, just a young man with average talent born into a clan that only brought forth the best of the best.
He didn’t know who sent the bounty. His phone had buzzed, and there it was. A two billion Yen bounty on his head. The second highest bounty that had ever been set.
He had several options. Travel to the Continental in Osaka, stay there until his coins would run out and he was kicked out, dying later, but ending up dead. He could wait for his execution right where he was. Or he could make the final decision of when to end his life.
He wasn’t desperate enough to keep living for the one or two months, each day being a reminder of what was supposed to come. He also didn’t want to give some bastard the satisfaction of killing him, claiming the bounty and living the rest of their lives in luxury.
As if. Zanka was too selfish to let some stranger get the life that was promised to him by his birthright, if he had been a bit more than ordinary.
Zanka didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or cry.the youngest son of the Nijiku clan, one of the most influential clans in the whole world, was supposed to be executed, despite being ordinary. Other than his sister or brother, he wasn’t strong. Just lucky enough to survive so far.
At least in his last hours he could try to not bring shame upon his family further. He wondered for a second if they saw the message, they surely did, but if they realised it. That he wouldn’t see the next day without a given reasoning.
Just someone who was rich enough to waste money for his execution.
It was his birthday today.
Would there even be a grave for him? Maybe.
At least the Cleaners seemed to care about him. Other than the Nijiku clan, the Cleaners were an organisation.
No one would be able to take revenge for him. While it was allowed in clans to take revenge for a family member, it wasn’t the same for organisations.
He would be found sooner than later. His Lovely Assistaff, while being his vital instrument and the only weapon he would ever want to use, would be no help if he got shot in the head.
At least he wouldn’t realise that he would be dead then. It would all just be gone.
He knew he would be dead before the day was done. Before the sun would rise to announce a new day.
If he had someone to choose to end his life, it would be his rival. The only person who brought out a disgusting side of him. The only genius he wanted to match. The only person who he had ever kissed.
Zanka wanted to laugh. Right now he yearned for the man he swore he hated, but when your life is about to end in the next few hours, all pride doesn't matter anymore.
He didn’t have the time for lies that he would keep telling himself.
A strange wave of calm washed over Zanka. Maybe if it was Jabber, his death wouldn’t hurt as much. Maybe if he pleaded with the man to take a quick and painless toxin, he would follow.
For the fact that Jabber was a masochist, he had a sadistic side as well. No, just thinking about it made Zanka aware that he wasn’t going to get the easy way out unless he did it himself. In a way, it hurt.
No matter what feelings were between them, this amount of money would matter more. While Jabber was a person who didn’t care about money as much and only wanted a good fight, he knew that this amount of money couldn’t go unnoticed.
His room felt stuffy, as if he didn't belong there anymore. As if those walls would soon seal his fate.
Zanka looked around, not to gather his belongings, but to become aware of the situation. His house wasn’t a safe place anymore. Maybe no one would find him, but that was a delusional thought before he could even think it through.
Only one person needed a vital instrument relating to finding someone and then his address would get leaked. If that didn’t happen already.
Another thought crossed his mind: What if his sister sent the bounty out? She had the budget to do so. But why would she? She wasn’t a cruel woman. Yes, they had their disagreements, but they were still family, even if Zanka left the official clan for the Cleaners.
The thought sent his mind reeling. He couldn’t calm down. Unease washed over him. In a way, he feared death, but not because he was going to die. No. It was the unease of not knowing who would spend so much to kill him, and why they didn’t try it themselves.
It didn't matter. It was all pointless from now on.
All he could do was face death with pride and courage. So maybe, in his last moments, he wouldn’t regret the choices he made that lead up to this point.
Zanka opened the door, the cold night air feeling comfortable on his skin, allowing him a short feeling of relief.
He walked out of his home, a dumb choice really, but maybe this place could be used for someone else to live in. And if he truly got assassinated on his way, maybe he would be able to fight without damaging his property.
Plus, if they knew where he lived, they would search there first. And if he believed the myths, he didn’t want his ghost stuck in that house either.
He walked for a short while, the street being unusually abandoned. He felt something. Someone behind him.
“So you’re my executioner,” Zanka turned around, seeing his rival now in front of him. Of course, he would find him . “Jabber Wonger.”
To his surprise, Jabber didn’t seem excited for the fight. He seemed calm, unusually so. Zanka was about to ask why he had that expression on his face, before Jabber ran past him.
Zanka looked back, there was a man who he had never seen before, but the gun in his hand made it obvious what he was here to do.
Zanka turned his back to Jabber, Lovely Assistaff changed her shape. Before Zanka could attack the man however, Mankira had been used to slice that man's throat.
Zanka only managed to stare as the smell of iron filled the air with a nauseating thickness. Jabber had injected the man with a toxin so even if he managed to survive the initial wound, he would suffocate from the toxin.
“You didn’t want anyone else to take the bounty, didn’t you?” Zanka faced the other man again, grabbing his collar. “That’s the only reason why you are here, isn’t it?”
”Are you asking me, Zan-Zan?” Jabber looked almost confused when he stared at Zanka. “Cause that guy is for sure dead. Broke his jaw too. He wouldn’t be able to talk even if he was breathing.”
Jabber’s expression turned into his usual manic grin that made a shiver run down Zanka’s spine. Why had he kissed that guy again? Several times at that? Zanka let him go and stepped back.
”You’re a psycho-freak,” Zanka mumbled out, his eyes not wanting to look at those beautiful magenta ones. Lovely Assistaff had long changed form, practically vibrating from excitement for one final fight. Zanka couldn’t deny that the possibility of one last fight didn't make his heart race faster as well.
Jabber didn't seem to want to attack him though. The Raider’s gaze softened in an unfamiliar way that made Zanka’s blood run cold. No. Jabber wasn’t allowed to look at him like that. He couldn’t give him hope for something that was never even meant to happen in the first place!
“Answer me. Why are you here?” Zanka asked again, his gaze wary, almost cold. He knew Jabber knew him well enough to look behind his facade, but right now Zanka wouldn’t allow it. Pride or not, he didn't want to let him see, to leave neither of them with any sense of regret.
“To protect my boyfriend. As if I would let one of these guys kill you,” Jabber answered with his usual grin, stepping forward again. “Promise me you will give me the fight of a lifetime, alright, Zan-Zan?”
Zanka didn't even know what to say, he just stared for a moment until Jabber rushed forward again, past him, slicing another man's throat open. What did he get himself into? Why didn't Jabber want to kill him right now? Maybe he wanted to and just waited for their final fight.
How romantic. Maybe if the circumstances were different, Zanka would have smiled, maybe even let out a chuckle, but right now, he couldn’t. The impending doom was slowly swallowing him whole.
Even if he managed to see the new day, he would be killed before the sun would rise. There wasn’t a time limit on the bounty; however, the quicker the kill, the earlier the money.
For them, he was only a target. His potential killers would be the same for him if the situation were the other way around.
Now Zanka couldn’t deny the small smile that made its way to his face. It was his final night. He could at least make it difficult for anyone who would try to dare to kill him.
Zanka stayed distanced from Jabber, not wanting to risk getting poisoned by the other man’s vital instrument as he blocked attacks from people that seemed to have arrived.Most of them seemed unfamiliar. However some of them, he was able to recognise from working together in the past, others from wanted posters. Some were previous classmates even. How foolish. Money makes people turn stupid, after all.
There was no use in holding back anymore. In a way, he didn't even know if he had done it before, but suddenly it felt right to just let go, to swing Lovely Assistaff against those men, ending their lives because they had tried to do the same with him.
Lovely Assistaff felt lighter in his hands, changing into something he wished to achieve, born from the love towards this object.
She still had her usual blue tint; however, now she seemed more dominating, more capable, more elegant. A slight sting of regret Zanka. Why was he only able to give her the form she deserved during their last fight together? After his death she would just be a regular stick, nothing more.
It filled him with rage. How couldn’t they see what was behind her? Instead of thinking further, he tried a new attack with her, ultimately killing five men with one attack. He had pushed her into the ground, spears shooting from her original form. She had grown longer, feeling lighter though.
It passed in a blur, and the stench of iron suddenly didn’t even register in his nose anymore. His body moved on autopilot as he swung his weapon. It almost felt like she had become a part of him, helping him to maybe see another day.
Zanka could feel himself smiling as he smashed another assassin's brain in. He saw the logo on the back of their jacket. It didn’t matter anymore. Clans, organisations? It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that he was the one who left his clan. It didn’t matter that he was deep down just an average guy.
For just a few minutes, it didn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter. Not anymore. Not when fate had him in their hands.
It became quiet again. The night air was quite chilly against his skin, giving Zanka a moment of clarity as he stood in front of his last opponent. Jabber.
Zanka approached him, his eyes focused on the Raider, like an animal hunting its prey. Jabber thrived in that gaze, his face lighting up with pure joy.
“There he is. My man~” Jabber allowed Mankira to take her full form. “Finally. You’ve given your staff a proper form.”
Jabber attacked first, which Zanka had long predicted. With Lovely Assistaff’s new form, he was able to pin Jabber’s claws down, trapping the Raider in place. Zanka knew Jabber couldn’t escape from this unless he turned his weapon back into its held-back version. Zanka also knew that Jabber wouldn't do that.
At the same time, he knew that he had to be quick, quick enough so no one would interrupt them, quick enough that maybe he would have the time to run away, sparing his life in some kind of way for just another two days.
Who was he kidding? That was only the dopamine kicking.
Jabber smiled at him as he tried to free himself. His face filled with a manic pleasure. Zanka wanted to see more, to see him struggle more, all while he was in control. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t.
Zanka observed for just a second before disappearing from the Raider’s vision. Jabber looked up, seeing Zanka jump down, with his body this time, about to smash him into the ground. Lovely Assistaff still held Mankira’s claws down, but now Zanka was on Jabber. Zanka however didn’t hit Jabber, only pinning the taller male down further.
It wasn’t a real fight, nothing like what they had done before. It was calm, almost. More like the end instead of a whole fight.
“At this point you won’t be able to claim the bounty,” Zanka mocked, despite knowing that he could be dead the next second if Jabber decided it was his time.
“You don’t care anymore! Finally. You don’t care about Cleaners, Raiders, or whoever you were before. This is the strength I wanted to see. I needed to see.” Jabber cackled loudly, making Zanka falter for just a moment.
Jabber was right. He didn’t care anymore.
“Look at you! Finally smiling. For real smiling You’re no longer Mr. Bad Attitude!” Jabber sat up, Mankira having turned back into her ring form. Zanka stumbled back, only to be caught by the Raider.
“Show me more! Promise me,” Jabber continued. Zanka wasn’t able to follow his words anymore, the exhaustion slowly fogging up his brain.
“We both know I can't.” Zanka answered as he looked closer at Jabber. “End it before anyone else does.”
“What do you mean? You have given up? Cause of that bounty?” Jabber asked, his face turning stern; Zanka couldn’t look at him. “Why the fuck would you give up?”
Jabber stared at Zanka, trying to find a crack in the facade that Zanka had built over the duration of his life.
“Not even now you’re honest,” Jabber muttered, disappointed. More at himself than Zanka. As if he was disappointed that he couldn’t bring out Zanka’s true feelings.
Even after years of fighting each other, hours spent together, sometimes not even fighting. He only managed to bring out Zanka’s pure feelings without any kind of facade.
In Jabber’s eyes, Zanka was a work of art, an unpolished gem. The person he would ever crave. The only person that he desired. The only one who he wouldn't get bored of.
Jabber leaned down, his face close to Zanka’s. For just a moment, they just stared, feeling the other’s presence close.
It was Zanka who had the courage to connect their lips, even when his cheeks were dusted pink from embarrassment. He had become braver, but not really. He was just tired of pretending further, tired of pretending that he didn’t want Jabber to become his.
Romance was never a focus for Zanka. But could he really call whatever he had with Jabber a romance? Maybe it was in their own, twisted way that no one else would understand. Zanka liked that idea; he hoped Jabber did too.
Jabber was the one who pulled away first, leaving Zanka feeling disappointed. Jabber however pinned Zanka’s hands down, which confused the Cleaner. He tried to move his arms, only to find that Jabber didn’t let go.
A wave of anxiousness filled him as he stared up at those magenta eyes that seemed to read him so easily.
“Would you keep living for me?”
Zanka’s breath hitched as he heard Jabber say those words. His pulse quickened. What did he mean? Keep living? There was a bounty on his head; of course he wouldn't be able to keep living.
Zanka didn’t answer, but Jabber saw the answer that he needed in those blue eyes, filled with fear and a tiny bit of hope. That was enough.
“You’re never honest. Not with me. Not with anyone. Not even the other Cleaners.” Jabber spoke again before pressing a short kiss onto Zanka’s cheek. “Trust me with this one, Zan-Zan. Maybe I have figured you out right now.”
Before Zanka was able to answer, Jabber pressed another short kiss on his lips, pulling away just as quickly.
“Fight me. Fight me like you mean it. Not that lame-assed show. Show me the rage from earlier.” Jabber stood up again, leaving Zanka just staring.
“What do you mean fight you? We just kissed?! What is wrong with you?” Zanka stood up, grabbing Lovely Assistaff again. “I’m about to die today and you are telling me to fight you again! Why don’t you just do it?! I gave you permission to do so.”
Zanka grabbed Jabber by his collar again, for the second time that evening. Once again they just stared.
“You don’t want to die” Zanka’s eyes widened when the words registered in his brain-
“You’ve finally given her her true form. It only took the realization that you might die for you to achieve it.” Jabber smiled again, as he pressed another kiss on Zanka’s cheek. “Once this is over, you will fight me for real.”
“You say it like it's easy. Like there isn’t a two billion yen bounty on my head.” Zanka’s voice grew louder, anxiety kicking in again. Why did Jabber understand him? Was it that obvious for everyone to see?
“The bounty is on your name, right?” Jabber asked again, making Zanka raise his eyebrow in suspicion. “What else can it be placed on? I lost the ID when i joined the Cleaners.”
Jabber’s face filled with joy again. He grabbed Zanka by the waist, spinning them both around until Zanka got dizzy.
“Let’s elope!”
.
.
.
.
“WHAT?!” Zanka yelled, his face turning red. Yes, he was in love with Jabber, as much as he hated to admit it. But getting married? What kind of drugs did that lunatic swallow again? Zanka didn’t even wanna know.
“Think about it, Zan-Zan~” Jabber smiled, amused by Zanka’s expression right now. “You won’t be Zanka Nijiku anymore. We can run away and spend the rest of our days fighting each other!”
Zanka didn’t know what to say. Anxiousness filled his veins once again. Getting married to that guy? He couldn’t imagine it. However, what he said was right. The bounty would grow invalid, due to it being bound to his whole name. And if he stayed hidden with a new identity, no one would find him.
Was it worth it?
He would spend his days fighting with Jabber, probably in some far away land where no one was looking for them. The idea of no expectations sounded quite pleasant. No one would expect him to be something he couldn’t achieve.
Jabber was still waiting for an answer, his gaze fixated on Zanka while the blonde was lost in his thoughts. Jabber had to admit that it was quite funny seeing the other male puzzled like that. He got past the facade and that filled him with joy.
Zanka just looked at him, helpless. Could he really keep living with this stupid idea? Could this really work? Would they be free then?
What other choice did he have? Die? No, Jabber wouldn’t kill him so the only death he would have accepted, was now not an option anymore
“Alright,” Zanka said, a chuckle escaping him, not being able to believe his own stupidity. “Let’s elope, you freak.”
Jabber smiled widely, making Zanka’s heart pound. God, what did he get himself into?
He wanted to smile as well when he felt a sting on his side. Barely noticeable. But he knew the feeling.
Mankira.
Heat flooded him, the area feeling hot.
Jabber had stabbed him with one of his claws.
Intentionally.
Why?
Zanka looked at Jabber again, seeing the manic sparkle in his eyes again.
A laugh escaped him.
Zanka Nijiku was truly a foolish man. He let himself hope even as he stared death directly in the eye. He even kissed his executioner.
He told himself that he was prepared for it. He told himself that he was ready. But as he felt the poison spreading, infesting his body more and more, he felt fear. Genuine fear.
He wanted to experience more, not suffering but the happiness that was promised to be his one day. But now? It was useless.
He wanted to say anything, to hit Jabber in the face, only to find it useless. He couldn’t move anymore.
“What do you think? It’s my new toxin.” Jabber grinned as he pressed a kiss on Zanka’s mouth again.
It was perfect. It was painless. The heat of the wound slowly fading away. Exactly like Zanka had wished.
But why was he filled with regret?
He felt his vision blur, his eyes stinging. Only when he felt the wetness on his cheek did he realise that he was crying.
What a pathetic way to die…
Yet it was the one he chose.
He wanted to struggle, to fight against the darkness that slowly filled his vision. Until it all turned blank.
_____
Two years ago, Zanka Nijiku passed away.
The one who killed the youngest son of the Nijiku clan was Jabber Wonger.
He presented the body to the committee, receiving his reward.
After that, he disappeared. No one knew where. There was no trace left of him.
No one knew that he was living on some far away island now. Still close enough to the mainland that he didn’t need to worry about groceries or healthcare whenever he got sick with something that he couldn’t cure himself.
He didn’t feel lonely, no.
Why would he when he had the chance to fight and kiss his favorite person every day.
How Zanka’s poisoned body was mistaken as dead, Jabber still hadn’t found an answer to that. He collected the bounty after Zanka was declared dead.
No one wondered why Jabber took the body with him soon after, but as soon as they were out of sight from anyone, he gave Zanka the antidote.
Zanka ended up giving him the beating of his lifetime, but it was deserved.
“Your hair has gotten long,” Jabber mumbled as he approached Zanka, pressing a kiss to the back of the other man’s neck.
Zanka only hummed in acknowledgment.It was his death day, yet he was alive and breathing two years later.
The Cleaners knew that he was still alive, sometimes even coming to visit, but for the rest of the world, Zanka Nijiku was a dead man.
The ring on his finger felt heavy today, it was their anniversary too, technically.
Zanka wanted to ask Jabber if he regretted it, now being stuck on this boring island with him, but a part of him, a small possessive one, didn't want to ask.
It was just them, here, for most of the time.
Jabber could leave, but he didn't.
Zanka pressed a kiss on Jabber’s cheek, enjoying the way Jabber was slightly leaning in. It wasn’t like he imagined.
Maybe one day, he would return, find the person who set the bounty on his head, but for now, for just a few more years he would spend the time with his husband.
And that was more than enough.