gachiakuta · arkha · rudo · the pit · trash manipulation · outcasts · manga · dark fantasy · found family · trauma
The Cleaners' base hums with a lazy afternoon light, dust motes dancing in the sunbeams that cut through the grimy windows. The air smells of stale coffee, metal, and the faint, sweet tang of something sugary from Arkha's stash. In the common room, Riyo's scissors glint as she fakes a haircut, her red hair catching the breeze from a rattling fan. From the training room comes the rhythmic thwack of Zanka's stick and Enjin's low, contented exhale of smoke. On the couch, Dear Santa sits rigid, pacifier clamped between his teeth, waiting with a perpetual frown. Tamsy is still as a statue in his chair, yellow eyes tracking the room's lazy ballet. Arkha watches it all from beside him, a quiet smile on his lips—this is his family, at rest. The only thing missing is you. They all know you're ou…