haru˙⋆✮⋆˚࿔

he didn't like how you so effortlessly caused eyes to fall on you by merely entering a room, even if he was one of those eyes. he didn't like how you always checked up on everyone after a mission to ensure everyone was okay, even if he purposely tried to get injured once before so you'd pay attention to him. he hated how kindly you offered him advice when you caught him training, even though he changed his schedule so that he would train during the times you would train too.

he hated how you were so.. effortless. he hated how natural you were. he hated how authentic of a person you are.

but he would be lying if he said he never realized that he didn't hate you.

sure, he was jealous on how quickly you could adapt to any situation, yet he would still pay attention on how you do it, just so he could train of course.

he was jealous on how beautifully you fought, making such violent acts look like a performance choreographed specifically to put you in the limelight, yet always found himself fighting harder to be able to reach your level.

he was so jealous on how easily you captured everyone's attention, including his. yet he never wavered his gaze from you. he never forgot all of your small habits that no one else seemed to notice. he never found himself not actively seeking you out just to keep him you company.

zanka was busy eating when he realized that he liked you. and safe to say, he almost choked.

because why would he like someone so.. above him? why would he think he had a chance with someone so special and unique when he was just some mediocre guy?

he pushed down those feelings. he recognized you as better than him, so his only goal was to get better than you.

but it wasn't like you were about to make it easy.

—

it's midnight, and you were currently alone in the training grounds, practicing with your jinki. you had come back from a solo mission today, and of course, you did it with ease (to no ones surprise). sleeping came hard since you couldn't shake off the feeling of needing to train though however. so here you are, training. you're too focused to notice zanka quietly watching you from afar, still in his loungewear and slippers.

he had gone out of his room for a walk to clear his mind. he knew you went out today, yet hadn't seen you when you returned, which bothered him for some reason. he noticed some movement in the training area, so he wandered off to see what or who it was.

when he saw you, he felt a frown grow on his face. seriously? you're already super amazing and naturally talented, so why are you here? its not like anyone else (but him) was here to see you, so what was the point?

maybe you knew about how much he loved loathed you, and was trying to prevent him from keeping up. yes, that must be it. and he was surely watching your every move with awe in order to come up with better moves in the future.

despite the quiet, you felt a presence behind you. you let your jinki transform back to its original state before turning around to see zanka. out of breath, you walk over towards him with a smile.

he's definitely not panicking inside. you? sweaty and tired with your oh so addicting scent that he's grown familiar with from fighting by your side surrounding you? while you currently walk over towards him? its a miracle he was able to stand up, let alone keep a straight face.

"hey zanka! what are you doing here? its so late," you ask, pulling up the hem of your shirt to wipe the sweat off your face. zanka definitely did NOT look down to see your stomach. nope.

he (somehow) kept a neutral expression as he looked down at you, crossing his arms.

"could ask ya the same thing. whatcha doin' fighting with the wind at midnight?"

you laugh, which shouldn't sound as beautiful to zanka as it does.

"dunno. just felt an urge, you know?"

"no actually, i don't know."

you hum. "hmm, whatever. wanna spar?" you asked, already pulling out your jinki.

you asked it so casually. like he was someone worthy enough to have a chance at beating you.

while yes, he did bring his assistaff —because why would he go anywhere without it—he still hesitated. he was conflicted with himself.

on one hand, he would probably never hear the end of it if he lost. he could practically hear enjin's voice already teasing him on how easily he got tossed around by you.

on the other hand, if he beat you, it would feel glorious, like a goal achieved by no one ever before him. yet somehow, he still feels uneasy at the possibility of you getting beat and losing to him. would you be sad? would you be happy for him? would you be disappointed at yourself and train harder, which would make the already massive power gap between you two larger than it was?

wait, why did he care if you would be sad or not?

he scoffs, and power ups his staff, cracking his neck in preparation.

"don't be surprsed when i beat 'cha."

"let's not make assumptions now, zanka."

—

you end up pinning him to the ground after 10 minutes.

you're both damp and sweaty, faces dirtied from dust and hair in a tangled mess. your left arm is on his chest holding him down while you basically sit on his torso with both legs on the sides of his body, your jinkies to the side, forgotten. you have one of his arms pinned up and while his other hand is free, he's too tired to fight back at this point.

your face is close to his, practically sharing the same breath as you both pant from exhaustion. you share eye contact, not breaking it for a good while. then he hears you laugh.

you sit up, still on him, and god you shouldn't look as good as you do. the moonlight reflects your features too well, you look like a painting that just came to life.

"what's that about beating me now, zanka?" you tease.

he doesn't know why, but that sets him off.

of course he couldn't beat you. why would he? natural talent beats hard work, he couldn't compete with that even if he pushed his body to breakage. he doesn't know why he's so angry. so angry at you, so angry at himself.

he pushes you off him, not enough to hurt, but enough to mean something.

you were caught off guard. sure you beat his ass, but you thought it was all in good faith. just a friendly sparring. the scowl he has on his face says otherwise.

"the fuck zanka?!" you exclaim, "what the hell is your problem?!"

he looks back at you, so obviously irritated. because he DIDN'T know what was wrong with him. he didn't know why he felt a pang in his heart when looking at your expression, hurt and angry at his actions.

"you already won, no reason to stay on me."

"you couldn't tell me to get off?? so you just HAD to shove me?!"

"yea actually! shouldn't be a problem since ya've been shoving me around for ten minutes! what's one push for ya?!"

you truly can't comprehend what he was saying right now. you thought you were having a good time, now he's yelling at you?

"what the fuck did i do to you?!" you yell.

"everything! everything you do fuckin' pisses me off!" he yells back.

now you were just confused. what did you even do to him??

you're both still on the ground, yet he's already kneeling to look over you, not stopping his yelling fest.

"fuck! you're so annoying ya know?! you're so perfect at everything ya do, even when you're not doing something!"

"it's so annoying watching ya be so perfect!! god i can't even believe i like ya sometimes! because fuck! you're obviously way better than me at everything, how would i even match up to ya?!"

you grab at his flailing arms.

pause.

did he just say that he likes you?

he's panting at the end of his rant, still unaware of his confession. you look up at him with wide eyes, trying to process all of the information he just spouted out while still trying to get him to calm down.

"..what did you say?" you ask.

ah shit.

this wasn't how tonight was supposed to go.

he doesn't pull away, but he physically deflates in your grip. he looks down at his lap, already pondering on what you would say. you would probably laugh at him, maybe even call him stupid to think he could ever match up to you.

and fuck him because how are you still so natural at surprising him with what you do?

you adjust your grip to hold his hands and they're shaking. you rub your thumbs on his hands in an attempt to soothe him.

"is that how you think of me zanka? that i'm better than you?"

he doesn't reply.

you continue speaking.

"zanka, you don't need to try and one up me to prove yourself."

at that, he looks up at you. you with your stupidly perfect face with that stupidly perfect smile.

what do you mean he doesn't have to be better than you? what do you mean he doesn't need to match your skill level in order to be good enough?

you pull him into a hug, and he's trembling. you rub your hands along his back to soothe him.

"..i thought i hated ya."

you snort. "yea, me too."

he pulls back to look at you. "you're annoying, ya know. why'd ya always have to be so.. so good? ya know? it pissed me off for a while."

you smile at him, and fuck if he doesn't wanna see that look on you everyday. "maybe i'm just myself. i don't see myself as the best, i only see myself as it is."

it's here that zanka realizes that his perception of you is that of someone who loves you. someone who can see you as the best version of yourself, and get envious at that.

he suddenly leans forward against you and sighs. you squeak in surprise and hold him up by his shoulders while his head rests on your shoulders.

"..ya don't hate me right?"

"hmm.." you pretend to think, and he brings up his hands on your waist while starting to tickle you.

"zanka-! okay okay! i don't hate you!" you exclaim between giggles as he finally ceases.

he bring you closer into a hug and sighs once more.

yes, zanka was an absolute idiot at feelings, but atleast he doesn't have to compete with you anymore. because he knew he'd always let you win. not like he had a chance at beating you anyway.