Fanfiction: Scenes from the End of the World (Zanki Zero, OT7)
While watching Lost, I've been thinking a lot about my other backstory-heavy canon about traumatised, extremely shippable characters bonding after being stranded on an island together. Here's a Zanki Zero fic.
This is more a collection of loosely connected missing scenes than a single narrative. I had a couple of Zanki Zero bits and pieces lying around and I wanted to tie them together into something postable, because... look, there's not a lot of Zanki Zero fanfiction out there, and there's even less for the OT7, and I want to do what I can to improve the situation.
Title: Scenes from the End of the World
Fandom: Zanki Zero: Last Beginning
Rating: PG-13
Relationships: Haruto/Ryo/Minamo/Zen/Rinko/Yuma/Mamoru
Wordcount: 1,600
Summary: The strangest thing about the apocalypse is how much happier Haruto is, now that it’s happened.
“What was this office like when you worked here?” Sachika asks. She’s sitting on one of the broken-down desks, kicking her feet in the air.
Haruto looks over at her for a moment. “You want stories about... working in an office?”
“Yeah! I wanna know everything.”
He doesn’t like thinking back to it. Even before his mistake, the grind of it was relentless, somehow overwhelming and monotonous at the same time. He’s always been an early riser, but it was a struggle when he was so reluctant to go in to work.
He’s still working hard here, of course. But he’s working to gather food, to improve his building skills. To help make life better for everyone. It feels like he finally has a chance to do something that matters.
“It’s not that interesting,” Haruto says.
“But it was better than it is now, right?” Sachika asks. “No monsters?”
Haruto looks over at the others. An apple tree has grown up between the desks; Mamoru and Zen are picking apples, occasionally tossing one Yuma’s way. Minamo and Rinko are laughing at something Ryo’s said, or maybe something he’s done; he looks pleased but embarrassed.
“Honestly,” he says, “I think it’s better now.”
-
Zen’s sitting on one of the rocks by the shore, watching the waves. This far out from the fire, the light only picks out his edges: the curve of his shoulders, a narrow crescent of his hair. He’s an elderly man right now, but the darkness blurs his details, makes him younger.
Haruto contemplates sitting next to him. There’s probably a fair chance Zen will just ask him to go away, and then he’ll have to stand up again.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, instead.
Zen shifts to look at him, bringing more of his features into the faint light. His eyebrows are raised. He doesn’t say anything.
“We’ve both had our pasts exposed now,” Haruto says. “I thought we might understand each other.”
“Our pasts were pretty different,” Zen points out. “You tried to do the right thing. Someone else changed your article. Not exactly beating your mother on a daily basis, is it?”
Haruto doesn’t have anything to say to that.
“You’re not gonna make excuses for me?” Zen asks. “Go on, say she deserved it.”
Haruto hesitates. “I’m not going to say that.”
“Good,” Zen says. “I don’t have much respect to offer. I wouldn’t recommend throwing it away.”
Silence. Maybe it’s time to walk away. But Zen is still looking at him; it doesn’t feel like this conversation is finished yet.
“I haven’t looked at my reflection when I’m like this,” Zen says, abruptly. He gestures around his face with a wrinkled hand. “It’s stupid, but I guess I’m afraid I’ll look like him.”
“You’re nothing like him,” Haruto says.
Zen laughs: a short, unimpressed sound. “Thanks, but you have no idea what you’re talking about. You never met my grandfather. Not when he wasn’t a monkey-monster, at least.”
“I’ve met you,” Haruto says. “And I’ve seen those videos. I don’t know if you look like him, but I know for a fact you’re different people.” He shifts on his feet. “I’m glad you’re the one who’s here.”
This time, Zen’s laugh sounds a little more genuine. “Well, it’s good to know I clear that high bar.”
-
Perhaps it’s no surprise that relationships would end up forming between the last survivors of humanity. They explore together, they eat together, they build together, they share rooms in the hotel. They get to know each other, and feelings develop.
But the relationships are unstable, shifting. It’s hard to explain, but, without all the trappings of society, jealousy feels pointless. Haruto might spend a night with Minamo, but, if she shares a room with Mamoru or Yuma the next night, it doesn’t bother him.
He wonders if he’d have felt the same before the world ended. Romance was never really a big part of his life.
With the barriers broken down between them, Haruto sometimes finds himself wondering how far things could go.
They’re on the beach right now, long into the evening; Sachika’s already said her goodbyes and gone to bed. Rinko’s sitting in Ryo’s lap, or close enough; he’s braiding her hair into intricate and impractical knots that he’s hopefully planning to undo before long. Minamo gives both of them a quick kiss in passing, then laughs selfconsciously, brushing her hair back behind her ear.
It feels like it could be on the edge of something. Haruto sits on the other side of the fire, picturing how the others might react if Ryo moved his hand a little further up Rinko’s thigh, out here in front of everyone. Or maybe if Haruto involved himself in the scene, went over to kiss Ryo’s mouth or Rinko’s neck. Put everyone else in a position where they’d have to make a choice: leave or stay? Leave or be part of this?
It’s just a daydream. He’s not the best at taking action; it’s so easy for things to go wrong.
But Yuma, it turns out, has been thinking along similar lines, and she has no such qualms. She kisses Rinko deeply, bracing her hand on Ryo’s thigh; Ryo lets out a startled squawk that surprises Haruto into laughing.
Zen stands and stretches. It’s a casual movement, but he keeps his gaze fixed on the scene the entire time, and that feels far from casual.
“So,” Zen says, “are we all going to fuck, or are we just going to keep dancing around it?”
-
“If this happens again,” Mamoru says, thoughtful, “we should probably take it inside the hotel. Sachika could see us if we’re outdoors.”
“Guess we’ll need to build bigger beds,” Zen says.
Mamoru was the last to join in. It surprised Haruto a little; with the way Mamoru throws around talk of love, Haruto wasn’t expecting him to show any reserve in this situation. But, if he was thinking of Sachika, that would explain it.
“So, ah,” Rinko says. There’s a hesitation in her voice that makes Haruto look over at her. “Will this be happening again?”
Haruto frowns. Rinko’s Conquest Videos are playing on his mind. She’s been exploited before; he doesn’t want to be one of the people exploiting her. And it seems like the finer details of consent could get overlooked when there are seven people involved; this just kind of happened, it’s not like they had a full round-table discussion about everyone’s preferences beforehand. But she’d have left if she wasn’t comfortable, he hopes.
“Is that what you want?” he asks.
Rinko flushes, startled. “M-me? I don’t know. I just... didn’t want to assume.”
“Hey, it’s fine,” Ryo says. “If you need to think about it, you can think about it. But, just for the record, I would totally do that again with any of you.”
“You okay, Rinko?” Minamo asks. “I guess all this is kind of intense, huh?”
“I’m okay,” Rinko says. She smiles, tentative. “It’s embarrassing to say it, but... I’m glad this happened.”
“I see,” Zen says. “Will this be happening again was a hopeful question, huh?”
Rinko folds her arms across her chest. “Not if you’re going to tease me about it.”
Zen laughs. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
-
Ryo misses breakfast, and Haruto’s the one who goes hunting for him. At least his bright colours should make him easy to spot: green hair, red clothes.
Haruto occasionally glances down at the ground, checking for X Keys. But it’s rare for anyone to die on Garage Island for any reason other than old age; the monsters don’t seem to have made their way here.
That doesn’t mean there aren’t dangers, of course. They’ve made a collective agreement not to go swimming without anyone else around. If one of them drowns alone, their X Key will probably never be found.
It’s probably not a big risk. They can all swim. But it’s hard not to think of your friends as fragile if you watch them die on a weekly basis.
He finds Ryo, in the end, wandering along a stretch of sand.
“You’re not eating with us?” Haruto asks.
Ryo gives him a startled glance. “Oh, man, is it breakfast time already?”
It’s not like they have clocks here, of course. Mamoru or Sachika will usually knock on everyone’s doors to rouse them for breakfast; apparently Ryo’s room was empty this morning. “How long have you been awake?”
“Uh, I don’t know.” Ryo scratches the back of his head. “Since before sunrise. I just couldn’t get back to sleep.”
Haruto frowns. “Are you okay?”
“Um.” Ryo swallows. “I don’t know?”
“Is something on your mind?”
“I guess you could say that,” Ryo says. “Just kind of thinking about the, um. The...” He gestures vaguely at the offshore wreckage. “You know, the apocalypse.”
It was probably a silly question to ask. Of course Ryo has something on his mind; the world has ended. It’s not something they can do anything about, but it’s not something they can forget either.
“It’s hard to take it in, really,” Ryo admits. “Everything’s gone. I’m kind of scared of the moment it’ll hit me. Y’know?”
Haruto looks out, across the ruins of the world, the sky and the sea so bright they almost hurt to look at. Eight people left. Civilisation a wreck. The few of them who are still here have nothing left to do but stay alive.
But they have each other. And that’s more than he had in his life before.
“It’s hit me,” he says. “I just... this probably won’t make sense, but I think I’m okay with it.”
This is more a collection of loosely connected missing scenes than a single narrative. I had a couple of Zanki Zero bits and pieces lying around and I wanted to tie them together into something postable, because... look, there's not a lot of Zanki Zero fanfiction out there, and there's even less for the OT7, and I want to do what I can to improve the situation.
Title: Scenes from the End of the World
Fandom: Zanki Zero: Last Beginning
Rating: PG-13
Relationships: Haruto/Ryo/Minamo/Zen/Rinko/Yuma/Mamoru
Wordcount: 1,600
Summary: The strangest thing about the apocalypse is how much happier Haruto is, now that it’s happened.
“What was this office like when you worked here?” Sachika asks. She’s sitting on one of the broken-down desks, kicking her feet in the air.
Haruto looks over at her for a moment. “You want stories about... working in an office?”
“Yeah! I wanna know everything.”
He doesn’t like thinking back to it. Even before his mistake, the grind of it was relentless, somehow overwhelming and monotonous at the same time. He’s always been an early riser, but it was a struggle when he was so reluctant to go in to work.
He’s still working hard here, of course. But he’s working to gather food, to improve his building skills. To help make life better for everyone. It feels like he finally has a chance to do something that matters.
“It’s not that interesting,” Haruto says.
“But it was better than it is now, right?” Sachika asks. “No monsters?”
Haruto looks over at the others. An apple tree has grown up between the desks; Mamoru and Zen are picking apples, occasionally tossing one Yuma’s way. Minamo and Rinko are laughing at something Ryo’s said, or maybe something he’s done; he looks pleased but embarrassed.
“Honestly,” he says, “I think it’s better now.”
-
Zen’s sitting on one of the rocks by the shore, watching the waves. This far out from the fire, the light only picks out his edges: the curve of his shoulders, a narrow crescent of his hair. He’s an elderly man right now, but the darkness blurs his details, makes him younger.
Haruto contemplates sitting next to him. There’s probably a fair chance Zen will just ask him to go away, and then he’ll have to stand up again.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, instead.
Zen shifts to look at him, bringing more of his features into the faint light. His eyebrows are raised. He doesn’t say anything.
“We’ve both had our pasts exposed now,” Haruto says. “I thought we might understand each other.”
“Our pasts were pretty different,” Zen points out. “You tried to do the right thing. Someone else changed your article. Not exactly beating your mother on a daily basis, is it?”
Haruto doesn’t have anything to say to that.
“You’re not gonna make excuses for me?” Zen asks. “Go on, say she deserved it.”
Haruto hesitates. “I’m not going to say that.”
“Good,” Zen says. “I don’t have much respect to offer. I wouldn’t recommend throwing it away.”
Silence. Maybe it’s time to walk away. But Zen is still looking at him; it doesn’t feel like this conversation is finished yet.
“I haven’t looked at my reflection when I’m like this,” Zen says, abruptly. He gestures around his face with a wrinkled hand. “It’s stupid, but I guess I’m afraid I’ll look like him.”
“You’re nothing like him,” Haruto says.
Zen laughs: a short, unimpressed sound. “Thanks, but you have no idea what you’re talking about. You never met my grandfather. Not when he wasn’t a monkey-monster, at least.”
“I’ve met you,” Haruto says. “And I’ve seen those videos. I don’t know if you look like him, but I know for a fact you’re different people.” He shifts on his feet. “I’m glad you’re the one who’s here.”
This time, Zen’s laugh sounds a little more genuine. “Well, it’s good to know I clear that high bar.”
-
Perhaps it’s no surprise that relationships would end up forming between the last survivors of humanity. They explore together, they eat together, they build together, they share rooms in the hotel. They get to know each other, and feelings develop.
But the relationships are unstable, shifting. It’s hard to explain, but, without all the trappings of society, jealousy feels pointless. Haruto might spend a night with Minamo, but, if she shares a room with Mamoru or Yuma the next night, it doesn’t bother him.
He wonders if he’d have felt the same before the world ended. Romance was never really a big part of his life.
With the barriers broken down between them, Haruto sometimes finds himself wondering how far things could go.
They’re on the beach right now, long into the evening; Sachika’s already said her goodbyes and gone to bed. Rinko’s sitting in Ryo’s lap, or close enough; he’s braiding her hair into intricate and impractical knots that he’s hopefully planning to undo before long. Minamo gives both of them a quick kiss in passing, then laughs selfconsciously, brushing her hair back behind her ear.
It feels like it could be on the edge of something. Haruto sits on the other side of the fire, picturing how the others might react if Ryo moved his hand a little further up Rinko’s thigh, out here in front of everyone. Or maybe if Haruto involved himself in the scene, went over to kiss Ryo’s mouth or Rinko’s neck. Put everyone else in a position where they’d have to make a choice: leave or stay? Leave or be part of this?
It’s just a daydream. He’s not the best at taking action; it’s so easy for things to go wrong.
But Yuma, it turns out, has been thinking along similar lines, and she has no such qualms. She kisses Rinko deeply, bracing her hand on Ryo’s thigh; Ryo lets out a startled squawk that surprises Haruto into laughing.
Zen stands and stretches. It’s a casual movement, but he keeps his gaze fixed on the scene the entire time, and that feels far from casual.
“So,” Zen says, “are we all going to fuck, or are we just going to keep dancing around it?”
-
“If this happens again,” Mamoru says, thoughtful, “we should probably take it inside the hotel. Sachika could see us if we’re outdoors.”
“Guess we’ll need to build bigger beds,” Zen says.
Mamoru was the last to join in. It surprised Haruto a little; with the way Mamoru throws around talk of love, Haruto wasn’t expecting him to show any reserve in this situation. But, if he was thinking of Sachika, that would explain it.
“So, ah,” Rinko says. There’s a hesitation in her voice that makes Haruto look over at her. “Will this be happening again?”
Haruto frowns. Rinko’s Conquest Videos are playing on his mind. She’s been exploited before; he doesn’t want to be one of the people exploiting her. And it seems like the finer details of consent could get overlooked when there are seven people involved; this just kind of happened, it’s not like they had a full round-table discussion about everyone’s preferences beforehand. But she’d have left if she wasn’t comfortable, he hopes.
“Is that what you want?” he asks.
Rinko flushes, startled. “M-me? I don’t know. I just... didn’t want to assume.”
“Hey, it’s fine,” Ryo says. “If you need to think about it, you can think about it. But, just for the record, I would totally do that again with any of you.”
“You okay, Rinko?” Minamo asks. “I guess all this is kind of intense, huh?”
“I’m okay,” Rinko says. She smiles, tentative. “It’s embarrassing to say it, but... I’m glad this happened.”
“I see,” Zen says. “Will this be happening again was a hopeful question, huh?”
Rinko folds her arms across her chest. “Not if you’re going to tease me about it.”
Zen laughs. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
-
Ryo misses breakfast, and Haruto’s the one who goes hunting for him. At least his bright colours should make him easy to spot: green hair, red clothes.
Haruto occasionally glances down at the ground, checking for X Keys. But it’s rare for anyone to die on Garage Island for any reason other than old age; the monsters don’t seem to have made their way here.
That doesn’t mean there aren’t dangers, of course. They’ve made a collective agreement not to go swimming without anyone else around. If one of them drowns alone, their X Key will probably never be found.
It’s probably not a big risk. They can all swim. But it’s hard not to think of your friends as fragile if you watch them die on a weekly basis.
He finds Ryo, in the end, wandering along a stretch of sand.
“You’re not eating with us?” Haruto asks.
Ryo gives him a startled glance. “Oh, man, is it breakfast time already?”
It’s not like they have clocks here, of course. Mamoru or Sachika will usually knock on everyone’s doors to rouse them for breakfast; apparently Ryo’s room was empty this morning. “How long have you been awake?”
“Uh, I don’t know.” Ryo scratches the back of his head. “Since before sunrise. I just couldn’t get back to sleep.”
Haruto frowns. “Are you okay?”
“Um.” Ryo swallows. “I don’t know?”
“Is something on your mind?”
“I guess you could say that,” Ryo says. “Just kind of thinking about the, um. The...” He gestures vaguely at the offshore wreckage. “You know, the apocalypse.”
It was probably a silly question to ask. Of course Ryo has something on his mind; the world has ended. It’s not something they can do anything about, but it’s not something they can forget either.
“It’s hard to take it in, really,” Ryo admits. “Everything’s gone. I’m kind of scared of the moment it’ll hit me. Y’know?”
Haruto looks out, across the ruins of the world, the sky and the sea so bright they almost hurt to look at. Eight people left. Civilisation a wreck. The few of them who are still here have nothing left to do but stay alive.
But they have each other. And that’s more than he had in his life before.
“It’s hit me,” he says. “I just... this probably won’t make sense, but I think I’m okay with it.”