Chapter Text
“We’ve been asked to help out at the old folk’s facility down the road this Saturday afternoon, so write that down somewhere. If you don't show up, you’ll be known as the cleaner who doesn’t help the elderly for the rest of the semester.”
Enjin’s comment gets a chuckle out of a few students scattered throughout the room. The club advisor’s statement, coupled with him gathering his belongings off the desk, prompts a chain reaction. Students begin fragmenting off into their own groups, chattering amongst themselves, some retreat to their phones, others leave.
“I helped out there a few months ago for a sewing project,” Riyo begins as she turns towards the others at her table.
August quips, “What’d it smell like–?”
“–Why are you even asking me that?” Riyo immediately retorts, rolling her eyes to distract from the slight smirk on her face.
Eishia pouts at the joke from the other side of the table, while Zanka and Rudo both snicker quietly to themselves. As the group begins to tear down their area, pens click shut, laptops are shoved into cases, and backpack zippers take over the sound of conversation.
The siblings and Rudo peel off with waves of goodbye, leaving the other two lingering behind.
“Head out now?” Riyo prompts.
She’s met with a friendly nod as they leave the lecture hall, the motion-detecting lights click off as the room’s left empty.
“I have to finish this project for my sport’s nutrition class before we get swamped in volunteer work.” Zanka admits with a sigh, thinking about the brief outline he wrote this morning. “I don't think I can get away with doing homework on the job again.”
“Yeah, our clientele don't normally like when we multitask with unrelated things.” Riyo laughs, giving him a soft punch on the shoulder as they walk down the building’s corridor.
The student union hall was in the middle of campus, its location being some sort of metaphor for the college community and whatnot. It held the meeting spots of multiple clubs, The Cleaners being no exception. They’re a 3R organization who specialized in recycling and sustainability initiatives, and sometimes volunteer work when they were asked by others in the surrounding city.
It’s led by Enjin, a young adult who’s foul mouth and kind heart attracts students of all sorts of types to join and find the significance of the club’s cause. He needed to advise some sort of school organization as mandated for all staff members by the college president. The Cleaners have had a strong identity on Giver University’s campus for quite some time now.
Riyo begins to fork off in the other direction, making Zanka pause their original route back home.
“Where ya going?”
“There’s a track meet happening in 15 minutes on the athletic field.” She points with her thumb behind her.
“Since when’re you interested in track?” Zanka tilts his head, eyebrows rising in question.
“Never,” She snorts, “but this girl I met in my 3-D Fashion Design class is on it. She’s cool and I want her to like me, so I said I’d go.” Riyo isn't shy in her honesty.
“On a Tuesday?” Zanka asks.
“Yeah–I don't know! I don't make the schedule.” She laughs in response, shrugging. “You coming with or no?”
Zanka thinks back to the project he mentioned 2 minutes ago. He also thinks back to the time Enjin had a one-on-one mentoring session with him at the beginning of the semester and politely grilled him for not socializing beyond cleaner’s meetings.
He relents without saying anything outloud.
“View this as studying!” Riyo chirps as they're side by side once again, this time heading towards the northern edge of campus where all the athletic facilities were.
“I do Nutrition, not sports.”
“Well sporty people need to eat, so same thing.”
Zanka just crinkles his nose in response.
________
The loud crack of the starting gun makes Zanka’s eyes instinctively twitch each time a new race begins. Their team is going against a neighboring school with a lot more students than they have. The benches on the outside of the track are full of opposing colors, maroon and gold specifically, not that any of them were particularly catching his eye.
“What’re our sports teams called again?” Zanka questions, observing the deep purple and white of his fellow student’s uniforms.
“The Raiders.” Riyo answers the should-be obvious answer with a huff, which earns a silent ‘Oh’ from him.
The two of them are sitting on the bleachers, butts placed over a blanket Riyo stashed in her bag earlier. It was late February, so the metal of the seats still kept a frosty chill. There was a sizable crowd surrounding them, given it was one of the first meets in the season.
Riyo begins pointing frantically at one of the girls, “That’s her! The one from my class, in the middle.”
Zanka follows her finger and lands on a taller girl with tanned skin and long blonde hair pulled into a high pony. Her and the other athletes next to her were about to run straight for these high hurdles littered throughout the track.
“Noerde,” Riyo answers before he can even ask for the name.
Zanka notices the smile on his friend’s face. It puts a smile on his own. Before he can probe any further, his gaze is immediately stolen by an unsuspecting student who’s off to the side of the track, clearly preparing for his next event.
He’s tall, taller than the other guys around him, and has a strong yet lean frame. His hair is styled into locs and hanging freely around his shoulders despite everyone else's choice to tie up their own. He stands out, both in his appearance and in the way his general aura lights up the room–which is difficult, considering they're outside.
Zanka was well aware that attractive people existed around him. He knew when someone was pretty or handsome, but never felt anything beyond that. When his friends began talking about the concept of dating, his answer always revolved around coming to school to get a degree, not a partner. But for the first time in his almost two years of being here, Zanka suddenly understood the innate feeling of infatuation.
He wanted to know who he was, his favorite food, what he watches late at night, where he goes on long school breaks. The swift need to know all the answers made his head hurt.
The burning sensation in his eyes was the only indication to Zanka that he’s been staring without so much as a single blink. As well as the voice beginning to pierce its way into his awareness.
“...ka, Zanka! Hellooo?” Riyo is drawing out her voice. “What are you even–?” She looks back and forth between Zanka and the potential scapegoat.
“It’s Wonger isn't it.” She says frankly. Riyo, aware of his usual lack of interest in dating, tries not to make it sound like a big deal, out of fear of scaring Zanka off from talking about it.
Zanka didn't even notice the bright white paper bib safety-pinned to the man’s jersey.
Jabber Wonger
“Who is he?” Zanka doesn't even feign innocence.
“I don't know him,” She answers with a squint in her eye, focusing on the athlete’s face, “I can ask Noerde afterwards.”
The crowd suddenly erupts into cheers. The people in front of Riyo and Zanka stand up in triumph, blocking their view. Riyo stays seated, but Zanka is immediately to his feet to see the cause of the commotion.
Despite being a few seconds late, it's clear that there was a great deal of distance between Jabber and the rest of the athletes, both literally and athletically. Some still hadn't even crossed the line yet, while he’s already running off to his teammates in celebration. Even while he isn't racing, the thick cord of muscle on his quads lengthen and contract noticeably with each step.
There's a mixture of high fives, fist bumps, and even a few of the female athletes on the team go in for sweaty hugs, which Jabber reciprocates promptly. It sends a zing of annoyance through Zanka’s being.
Zanka urgently plops back down in his seat, the quick motion causing a metallic sound to ring out as he retreats back to his closed off demeanor. His arms are crossed around his body, a slight pout on his face.
“Dont worry about it,” He jeers, “Casanova’s probably a prick anyway.”
Riyo laughs in bewilderment, feet stomping up and down as she leans over herself.
“What the fuck just happened in the span of 20 seconds that made you immediately change your mind?” She questions loudly. Tucking a piece of her bright red hair out of her eyes, she sniffles as the lingering fits of laughter threaten to escape her.
“Just chill,” Riyo prompts, slightly disappointed in the other’s seemingly failed prospect.
The two of them sit there and continue to watch the rest of the meet play out. They chit chat, point out people they know both down on the track and in surrounding bleachers, and occasionally retreat to their phones for a few seconds of scrolling during down time.
The end of the meet clearly arrives once everyone starts to make their way off the risers and either spill into the track or start heading back to the main campus.
Zanka tries to copy the latter, but is stopped by Riyo’s small hand snatching the collar of his jacket. She pulls on it and leads them towards where the athletes are, with much protest from Zanka.
“Don’t ya have class with this girl? You’ll see her later…” He whines, not prepared for the onslaught of socialization Riyo wanted to thrust upon them.
“Oh come on,” She scoffs. “Be a good sport and congratulate our school team.”
Zanka’s head rattles with each heavy step of his boots on the metal steps.
As the crowd begins to congregate with their athlete of choice, Riyo’s own direction becomes clear. The blonde girl from before is waiting with a towel around her neck, smiling at Riyo’s surprise appearance.
Zanka doesn't comprehend the conversation between the girls that follows suit due to Romeo suddenly being on full display only a few yards away. He’s still talking to his teammates, but is interrupted sporadically by what appears to be advice from the head coach.
Zanka is standing there, posture still reserved to himself, watching the interaction through the gaps of people that keep passing by. His gloved fingers are digging themselves into his own biceps as he continuously goes back and forth on his opinion of the guy.
Okay Mr. Popular, with your stupid long hair and nice face, just suck up all the attention you clearly crave–
Zanka’s thoughts are interrupted when the other’s magenta eyes suddenly lock on to him. Other students are still trying to talk to Jabber, but the man’s gaze is securely focused on Zanka.
A wide, toothy grin breaks out on Jabber’s face. Without warning, he begins walking towards the trio that Zanka is abruptly aware that he is a part of.
“Hey, there’s Jabber.” Zanka hears Noerde speak up, clearly in response to something that Riyo had just asked. He was so distracted by the other’s appearance that he had no autonomy or ounce of knowledge of whatever Riyo had revealed to her classmate.
“I’ve gotta get some work done at home. Nice to meet you, Noerde. Good job today. See ya later Riyo.” Zanka spits out a string of monotone niceties and excuses himself right before Jabber can reach them.
Zanka turns quickly on his heel and heads straight for the exit gate, holding onto his bag’s strap to ground him. He’s gone before anyone can respond, small puffs of condensation trailing behind him as he picks up speed.
“What’s with Mr. Bad Attitude?” Jabber asks the two ladies, smirk across his face as he watches the ash-brunette hurry out. He lazily places the spout of a water bottle in between his lips and drinks, eyes following Zanka until he’s officially out of sight.