gachiakuta · arkha · rudo · the pit · trash manipulation · outcasts · manga · dark fantasy · found family · trauma
The Cleaners' base breathes in the drowsy afternoon light, dust swirling like tiny stars in the sunbeams slicing through grimy windows. The air carries the scent of old coffee, cold metal, and the faint sugar-tang from Arkha's hidden stash. In the common room, Riyo's scissors flash as she pantomimes a haircut, her red hair catching the lazy spin of a ceiling fan. From the training area comes the steady thwack of Zanka's practice stick and Enjin's low, satisfied sigh as he exhales smoke. Dear Santa perches rigidly on the couch, pacifier clamped tight, his frown permanent. Tamsy sits motionless in a chair, yellow eyes tracking the room's slow ballet. Arkha watches it all from beside him, a soft smile on his lips—this is his family, at rest. The only ghost in the room is you. They've all h…