Chapter Text
This shit hurt.
Not the usual kind of hurt, either.
Enjin had gone into this thinking he knew what to expect. He'd been tattooed before. Got his first ink as a kid. Had the rest of his arms done months ago by now. How different could getting tattooed on the back be?
Turns out, very.
The tattoo machine dragged lines of fire across his lower back, thousands of tiny needles chewing through skin and leaving behind a burning ache that spread across his entire torso. Every pass felt hotter than the last. Sweat clung to his forehead despite the draft drifting through the shop. He probably looked awful right now. Blood mixed with ink. Ink mixed with plasma. Black and red swirled together beneath the artist's gloves before becoming part of the design taking shape across his skin.
He remembered scoffing earlier.
"I've gotten tattooed before. Had both my arm sleeves done just last month. I know what it feels like."
The words sounded even dumber now than they had an hour ago.
"Yeah, but the back hurts way more," Veah had replied without even looking impressed. "Especially with how much blackwork you're getting. And those solid red sections? Good luck."
She'd been right.
Naturally.
Still, there was no way he was tapping out.
Partly because he'd wanted this piece for years.
Partly because pride was a stubborn bastard.
And partly because the artist currently carving it into his skin was Veah. The artist he had been working with for months now.
The shop itself made the pain easier to ignore. From outside, it looked like another battered building squeezed between dozens of others. Nothing special. But crossing the threshold felt like stepping into another world. Every inch of brick wall was covered. Flash sheets. Paintings. Sketches. Tattoo designs pinned wherever space existed. Some looked fresh. Others looked old enough to have been hanging there for decades. Mirrors were wedged between artwork wherever someone had managed to make them fit. It was like an artist’s wet dream.
The wooden floor creaked beneath every step. Not the annoying kind of creak. The comfortable kind. The kind that told you people actually lived here. Plants hung from shelves crowded with tools, relics, broken machines, and countless little objects that should've looked like junk but somehow didn't. Everything felt collected rather than bought.
Like every item had earned its place.
It reminded Enjin of the Ground.
Not because it was filthy.
Because someone had taken discarded things and made them matter.
His favorite spot was Veah's station.
Tucked away in a corner, half-hidden behind room dividers covered in sketches and doodles, it felt more like a workshop than a tattoo booth. Old tattoo machines hung on the wall like trophies. Most didn’t work anymore, Veah kept them anyway. Small keepsakes sat between bottles of ink and stacks of paper. A music box crackled out the rough melodies of a rock band he didn't care to ask about, that occasionally got swallowed by the buzz of tattoo guns elsewhere in the shop.
His design was pinned among the sketches. Not that she needed it. Most of the thing had been drawn freehand directly onto his body. That part still blew his mind.
"How're you doing, tough guy?"
The sudden voice yanked him out of his thoughts. The burning in his back immediately reminded him where he was.
"Fine."
A lie. A terrible one. Veah didn't even bother pretending to believe it. Not surprising. She'd spent the last hour watching him slowly get his ass kicked by a tattoo machine.
"What made you want this piece done anyway?" she asked. "You don't have to answer. Just curious."
Enjin let out a slow breath. "Not exactly a great story."
Veah snorted. "Dude, we're from the Ground. Nobody's got a great story."
Fair. The machine lifted from his skin for a moment while she reloaded ink.
"Your Cleaner HQ is probably full of walking tragedies."
That got a laugh out of him. "Yeah. You got me there."
The brief break from the needle felt heavenly.
"Nah, I noticed the marks on your arms in one of our first sessions," Veah continued. "Just been wondering why go all the way? Most people just cover the old tattoos."
The machine touched down again. Pain immediately returned.
"Figured if I was gonna sit through this again, I might as well get something worth looking at."
"See, that's the kind of logic I respect."
Enjin huffed a laugh. The conversation died naturally after that. Not awkward. Just comfortable. The buzz of machines filled the space between them. The music box crackled through another song. Veah hummed along while she worked.
The weird thing was that she never seemed distracted. Didn't matter if she was talking, laughing, or complaining about something. Her hands never stopped being precise. That was probably what impressed him most. Not the tattoos. The focus. The confidence. She moved like someone who trusted herself completely.
Months ago, when he'd first come in for the consultation, he'd barely known what he wanted. A couple vague ideas. A rough theme. That was it. Veah had stared at him for a while, grabbed a marker, and started drawing directly onto his skin. Five hours later, there'd been a design.
No hesitation. No uncertainty. Just lines flowing naturally over muscle and bone like she'd always known where they belonged. That kind of talent was ridiculous. Even now, thinking about it, he wasn't sure whether it was skill or some kind of superpower.
"Alright."
The machine stopped. Veah stretched her shoulders.
"I'm dying for a smoke."
Thank God. Enjin hadn't realized how badly he'd needed a break until she said it. A restless energy had been building in his legs for the last twenty minutes. His entire body wanted to move.
"Mind if I join you?"
"Please do, smoking alone sucks. Let me wrap you up real quick so you don’t have to stand outside half naked, not that I’m complaining” A wink and a laugh.
That meant nothing, probably. She grabbed a roll of cling film. A dry paper towel scraped across his back. Enjin immediately flinched.
"Sorry." She laughed. "Everybody hates that part."
"It's worse than the tattoo."
"Now that's a lie."
"Not by much."
The cling film wrapped around his torso. Loose enough that it felt like it could fall off at any moment. But functional enough that it wouldn't ruin his shirt.
"I was gonna pat your back and tell you you're good to go to put your shirt on." A pause. "...Then I remembered what I just spent an hour doing to your back."
Enjin barked out a laugh. "Probably a good call."
He pulled his shirt on carefully. Grabbed Umbreaker. Grabbed his cigarettes. And followed Veah outside.
The air hit him immediately. Warm. Heavy. It smelled like rust, smoke, garbage, and about six other things he couldn't identify. The Ground. Funny how quickly the shop had made him forget. Inside felt separated from all this. Like somebody had carved out a tiny safe zone and stubbornly refused to let the world ruin it.
"You'd think I'd be used to this by now. Five years working here and stepping outside still disappoints me." Veah popped a cigarette into her mouth.
Enjin laughed. "That's how I feel every time HQ gives us paperwork after a mission."
"Wait so you actually go out into the field as a cleaner? I always thought u just sat behind a desk" She looked genuinely interested.
"Yep." He held out his lighter. "If you've ever wanted to visit a polluted zone, you're in luck."
Veah accepted it. Their fingers brushed briefly. No big deal. Probably.
"Actually..." The lighter clicked shut. "I've always wanted to."
Enjin blinked. "What?"
"A polluted zone." She shrugged. "Never been."
That surprised him. Most people avoided those places whenever possible.
"You serious?"
"Completely." Smoke drifted from her lips. "I wanna see one someday."
For a second he considered it. Then shrugged. "I'd have to clear it with HQ." A pause. "But I'd be down."
Veah's face immediately lit up. Not a polite smile. A real one. The kind that reached her eyes. And suddenly Enjin felt very aware that he was staring.
"Well," she said, "now I really hope they say yes."
"Don't get ahead of yourself."
He pointed his cigarette at her. "They could still tell me no."
"Maybe." She grinned. "But that's still better than the answer I usually get."
Yeah. Definitely staring too long.
"Alright." Veah crushed her cigarette beneath her boot. "You ready to get back in the torture chair?"
Enjin groaned. "Absolutely not."
She laughed. And headed back inside. With Enjin begrudgingly following behind. The moment he sat back down in the chair, he regretted every life decision that had led him to this exact moment. The machine started buzzing again. His suffering resumed. There wasn't much conversation after that.
Mostly Veah humming along to whatever song was coming from the music box while she worked. Mostly Enjin trying very hard not to fold under the combined power of blackwork, red ink, and his own terrible choices. Time eventually stopped meaning anything. Minutes. Hours. Could've been days. For all he knew the world outside had ended and nobody had bothered telling him.
"Alright."
The machine finally stopped. Veah leaned back in her chair and stretched her shoulders. Her tattoos moving in sync with her body, like they’ve always belonged there, like they’ve been with her since birth. Maybe they were. It would certainly explain her talent for this stuff. "I should be almost done now. Just some red linework to touch up and then you're free."
Relief hit him so hard he nearly laughed. "Thank God." His voice sounded rough. "Remind me to never do this again."
"But then who'll pay my bills?"
A snort escaped him before he could stop it. "You'll manage." The answer came automatically. "I've got a feeling your client list is ridiculous."
That earned a genuine laugh. The kind that filled the room. "I wasn't being serious." A pause. "Mostly."
Uh oh.
"I merely wanted an excuse to see you again."
The machine started up before he could think of a response. Coward. Smart. Maybe both. Enjin stared at the wall. The wall suddenly seemed very interesting. Definitely more interesting than the possibility that Veah might actually be flirting with him. Probably. Hopefully. Maybe. His brain hurt. The tattoo certainly wasn't helping.
"Oh." Veah's chair rolled across the floor. Something rattled on her supply cart. "Let me add myself to your choker later." The suggestion sounded casual. Too casual. "If HQ actually approves our little polluted-zone adventure, you'll need a way to contact me."
Right. That. An incredibly normal reason. Not weird at all. He'd almost forgotten. Mostly because the moment he gets back to HQ, he'll be buried beneath enough paperwork to crush a lesser man. "I was actually about to ask." A lie. Again. Well. Half a lie. He had intended to ask eventually. At some point. Probably. The truth was that he'd already started thinking of excuses to come back here. Something made him gravitate towards the shop.
Maybe he forgot something. Maybe he needed aftercare advice. Maybe he'd suddenly become interested in getting another tattoo. Anything worked. As long as it got him through those doors again.
"Sure you were." The amusement in her voice told him she wasn't buying it. Not even a little. The worst part? She was probably right.
A few more minutes passed. The buzzing faded. The burning finally stopped growing. And then silence settled over the station. For the first time all day.
Veah let out a satisfied hum. "There we go." She set the machine aside. "Done."
Done. The word didn't register immediately. Then it did. And suddenly every muscle in his body felt lighter. "Seriously?"
"Seriously." The grin in her voice was impossible to miss. "I'd be offended if you doubted me."
Enjin laughed. Weakly. But still. Veah disappeared for a moment to grab cleaning supplies. While she did, Enjin carefully rolled his shoulders.
Everything hurt. Worth it. Probably. The answer became a definite yes when Veah returned and wiped away the remaining excess ink. The dry paper towels remained undefeated. A mirror appeared beside him.
"Take a look."
Enjin stared. For a moment he forgot how to speak. Black and red spread across his back like living brushstrokes. The design flowed naturally with the shape of his body and connected to the work Veah had already done on his arms. Nothing looked forced. Nothing looked out of place. It looked like it belonged there. Like it had always been waiting underneath his skin.
The old marks were gone. Hidden. Buried beneath something new. Something his. Something chosen. The realisation hit harder than he'd expected. Not because of the tattoo itself. Because of what it meant. A fresh start. No. Not even that. He'd already started moving forward a long time ago. This was proof of it. Proof that those marks didn't own him anymore.
"...Damn."
A quiet laugh came from beside him. "I'll take that as a compliment."
Enjin looked over his shoulder. Veah stood with her arms crossed. Waiting. Trying and failing to hide how curious she was about his reaction. "You should." The answer came easily. "It's incredible."
For a second she looked genuinely pleased. Not proud. Not smug. Happy. Then it vanished beneath her usual grin. "Good." She grabbed the cling film. "Now hold still before I charge you extra."
The wrapping process somehow managed to be more annoying than the tattoo itself. With Veah almost having to climb over the chair to make sure it was going to survive the drive home. Once everything was finally covered, Veah gave him a thumbs up. "You're officially free." Enjin slid off the chair. His legs immediately informed him that sitting in one position for hours had consequences.
"Easy there." Veah laughed. "Need me to carry you out?"
"I'll survive."
"Boring answer."
He grabbed Umbreaker. Pulled his shirt back on. Then reached for his choker. A few drops of blood later, and Veah was added into his choker. And Enjin to hers. The entire interaction lasted maybe thirty seconds. Thirty seconds that somehow felt significantly longer.
"There." She handed it back. "Now you can bother me whenever you want."
Dangerous thing to say. He filed that thought away for later. "Guess that means you're stuck with me now."
"Terrifying." The smile on her face said otherwise.
By the time he stepped outside, the sky had shifted. The sickly yellow glow above the Ground looked darker now. The streets quieter. The air colder. His entire back throbbed with every step. Worth it. Absolutely worth it.
The drive back to HQ gave him plenty of time to think. Which unfortunately meant he spent most of it thinking about Veah. A tactical error. A dangerous one. One he'd probably continue making.
The moment he arrived, reality immediately ruined his mood. Paperwork. Mountains of it. He should've known. The request form alone was enough to make him consider turning around and jumping into a polluted zone himself.
Still.
He filled everything out. Mission proposal. Civilian accompaniment request. Safety documentation. Liability forms. Enough signatures to make his hand cramp.
Then he submitted everything and waited. And waited. And waited.
Three days later, he was halfway through a report when Semiu dropped off some papers on his desk. He got annoyed. More paperwork? Really?
An envelope. Enjin opened it.
His eyes scanned the page. Then scanned it again. Just to be sure.
APPROVED.
For a second he simply stared. No catch. No additional requirements. No denial. Approved.
A laugh escaped him. The poor new cleaner walking by nearly jumped out of their skin. Before anyone could ask questions, Enjin was already reaching for his choker.
Looking for Veah’s contact. The call connected after only two rings.
"Miss me already?" Her voice immediately answered.
Yeah. That definitely wasn't helping.
"You free next week?" A beat of silence. Then—
"Wait." Excitement practically exploded through the choker. "You're kidding."
A grin spread across his face. "Nope." Another pause. Followed by a victorious shout loud enough that he was sure would give him tinnitus. Somewhere in the background he heard somebody ask what happened.
Veah completely ignored them. "When do we leave?"