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Coming to in a hospital room was expected. Coming to in the Hell Guard Medical Ward was less so.
Thick gauze kept pressure on new stitches, held fast by medical tape. The whole contraption really cramped his style. Someone, probably Riyo, had snuck him a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, bless their heart. Once consciousness hit and refused to leave him in peace, he didn't think twice about lighting up.
Maybe he should have.
"No smoking. And if I have to tell you again, I will take that blond hair and rip it all out with my sisters blessing." Yeesh, Goka was a buzzkill.
"Sorry." He wasn't really. After all that, he deserved a smoke break.
"You really are a disgrace. Have you no respect?" Enjin leered from where he lay.
"If it pisses you off so much, why don't you come over here and do something about it~" It would be a welcome change from the view of the ceiling. The wound on his neck was putting a real damper on conversation, he'd admit. If he wanted to look elsewhere, he'd have to move his whole body and frankly, he hurt like a bitch. Between the concussion, being thrown against concrete debris, and the backlash from Time Walk, he sure wasn't getting up to run a marathon anytime soon.
Goka remained silent, refusing to rise to the bait. Enjin sighed out a puff of smoke.
"Hey. What are ya doing here anyway? Babysitting the invalid? Didn't realize I was under lock and key." The silence between them turned stony.
"I am not here for you." His clipped response sent a sliver of dread down Enjin's spine. Enjin would bet his left kidney that Rudo was locked in an interrogation room with Kyouka; if Enjin himself wasn't the reason for Goka to be here that only left...
With what felt like monumental effort, Enjin twisted his torso to the side, his neck protesting as he strained to sit up. His vision swam briefly, a reminder of the concussion perhaps. He stubbed the cigarette out on the side table, ignorant of Goka's cutting glare as he rose unsteadily to his feet. The floor was cool against his bare skin as he shuffled across the open space between their beds. He blinked through the déjà-vu of seeing Zanka, pale, bandaged, and unconscious in a hospital bed, and bullied his brain to take in the full picture.
"What do you think yer-"
"Goka, shut up." Enjin sank carefully onto the bed at Zanka's hip, wary of jostling the line of blood that ran between them. He didn't begrudge the mans surliness, not when his own stomach twisted with muted horror and ill timed anxiety.
He hadn't realized Zanka had been injured.
On the other side of the bed, Goka sat like a stone sentinel, his arm laid out on a small table. Enjin recognized the set up from his teenage years flitting in and out of Alice's clinic, lending a hand when she wasn't yelling at him for being in the way. Blood flowed steadily through the line to Zanka, where the crook his arm wore a matching needle. His eyes caught on the vibrancy of red as it disappeared beneath pale skin and tracked the quiet rise and fall of his chest. Similarly to Enjin, he had been dressed in the loose robes preferred by those from Kamuatari, leaving his chest bare save for the swath of bandages that wrapped him from sternum to navel.
Despite his earlier prodding for conversation, Enjin kept himself in silence.
"That thing," Goka started. Enjin slid his eyes from Zanka's pale and bandaged body to the stern profile of his middle sibling. Up close, he could see where concern pulled at the edges of his expression. He wondered how many transfusions Goka had sat through while Enjin lay unconscious. How many more he would be allowed to give.
"I was closer." Aw hell. Leave it to him to decide to strike up a conversation with the one damn guy stewing on the opposite bank of the same tar-black pit of guilt Enjin himself was trying not to drown in. He sighed.
"I doubt his motivation was as petty as stirring up your family drama." He couldn't tell if the tightness in Goka's jaw came from his words or the hand he had wrapped around Zanka's wrist. He rubbed his thumb absently over the delicate bones beneath his light grip. No matter how hard Zanka trained, he showed no signs of inheriting his brothers bulkier frame. Instead, he bore lithe muscles and a narrow build to match his sister; traits Enjin attributed to the Nijiku matriarch, though he had never laid eyes on her himself.
"You would attribute strategy to that monster?" Enjin hummed. In the desperate tides of battle, Enjin hadn't considered much more beyond his next move. Even now, trying to untangle the puzzle pieces Mymo had scattered across the arena felt like a headache. Would it be to much to lay down and wait for Kyouka and Corvus to riddle it out in that dangerously formal verbal dance of theirs?
"I would. Zanka is one of the strongest we have. Taking him out allowed him to focus solely on Rudo and his goal." Goka scoffed.
"You would call him strong when he still hasn't learned how to protect himself?" The words were sharp, meant to tear down all that Enjin built. Over Goka's shoulder, his eyes caught on where Lovely had been laid to rest against the wall. Someone had taken the care to hook Umbreaker over her sturdy curve, banding them together as their Givers lay bed-bound. Instead of bristling, Enjin smiled lazily.
"Wouldn't I? Isn't that what we're for, Big Brother~"