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Fu knows his time with the Cleaners was definitely running out. His disgusting, needy attachment to Enjin and the others was taking its toll. Draining him and the Cleaner’s resources, until they’re exsanguinated and empty, and he’ll have to leave and find another host to burden.
It's the same song and dance he's always done.
He makes himself small, unassuming. Hides in the corners with his knees drawn to his chest and nobody looking at him, so he can stave off his dependence as long as possible. Lets himself blend into the background and starve himself both metaphorically and literally as he basks in the feeble warmth of a roof over his head and enough to quell his roiling stomach. The less he steals from others, the longer he can stay here.
He throws everything into his orders, washing dishes, mopping floors, scrubbing toilets, and doing laundry as quickly and effectively as possible so they can see his use. Maybe, maybe it could be worth siphoning their supplies if he does their dirty work. Hii thinks he's stupid, but what's new?
He’s busy cleaning out the cafeteria when it hits.
An aching, sore pressure at the side of his temple. Hii curses in the back of his brain, and Fu blinks, suddenly feeling sluggish. He tries to ignore it, continuing to mop the last of the floor and cleaning off the tables. He’s almost done; he can make it.
He stumbles as he puts away the supplies in the cabinet, vision blurring for a moment.
We need to leave, Hii instructs. Fu bites his lip. Usually, someone would be back by now, Mr. Corvus or Miss. Semiu checking his progress and either dismissing him or giving him another task. They haven't come yet, and he doesn't have any more orders after this.
Hii growls in his mind, and the lights flicker above, causing Fu to wince. Turn out the damn lights and get some painkillers from the med bay.
It's empty words, Hii's orders can never override any physical human's, but he tries anyway.
"I-I can't. You know I can't. But—they'll be back soon to give us orders, they know we're still working!" Fu says, perhaps more to himself than anything. He reaches towards the switch and turns it off, though, and the darkness soothes the pressure just barely.
Fu settles patiently on one of the cafeteria benches, knees drawn up. He pulls out the doll from his pocket and nuzzles into the fluff.
We're going to be in pain.
"I know, Master Hii."
You could prevent this.
"I know, Master Hii."
You're so fucking useless.
"I know, Master Hii."
Fu pulls Hii's doll close to his chest, leaning his head down on his knees, tilting so he can see the door. Light still shimmers through the crack, enough that if it opens, he'll be able to unfurl instantly in case they get mad at him resting.
The pain increases, and Fu shuts one eye tightly, pressing his thumb to the socket and upward in attempts to relieve the pain. It'll still take thirty minutes or so until the pain reaches its worst, plenty of time for someone to come and dismiss him. Hii is thankfully quieter, a steady pulse of discomfort and disgruntled contempt in the back of his mind.
Back with the Raiders, Jabber had caught him not so subtly holding his head as Zodyl droned on about a mission and pricked him with his anesthetic toxin before Fu could blink. The relief had been instantaneous, and the only thing Jabber asked in return was for Fu to pick him up and throw him into the nearest wall—which, okay, not the strangest order he'd received from the poisoner, but definitely up there.
Fu fiddled with the hem of his sleeve. He wished he could still be there sometimes, but it made sense. He'd already used up their graces. Zodyl made it pretty clear leaving him in the trash-beast, Jabber had probably just hid it better. Sadistic streak kicking in so that Fu's misery would be worse when he realized his abandonment. Maybe he got off on that, too.
He covered his head as the pain flared, a tiny whimper passing his throat.
He had to hide these… episodes from the Cleaners. They couldn't know he had frequent sickness. That would just be more of a burden. It would slice his remaining time to maybe days if he was lucky. Nobody wanted a sickly servant who needed breaks.
Corvus and Enjin would look at him with the same contempt Zodyl did if he knew that Fu was weak. That he would struggle under the workload. Fu shivered.
He hugs his knees closer, squeezing his eyes shut against the light and opening every few minutes to check for one of his superiors.
They sit there for twenty minutes as nausea begins to bubble in Fu's stomach.
Come on, Hii's insistence grows anxious. Go back and go to sleep before you throw up your dinner and waste their food.
Fu worries his bottom lip. Hii did have a point. He could not, under any circumstances, vomit. Someone would definitely hear with how thin the Cleaner Headquarters' walls were. They would find him voiding their precious resources and immediately tell the boss.
"Just a little longer," Fu whispers. "They'll be here."
He didn't really believe it himself.
Twenty more minutes. The throbbing in his head grew unbearable. He pulls himself out of the ball, looking towards the bathrooms next to the mess hall. Maybe he could go there. Just in case. He could still listen for anyone coming in.
Fear paralyzes him as he tries to move, and he whimpers, jolting back down. Right. He wasn't ordered to leave the cafeteria. The bathrooms weren't part of it. His stomach lurches at the decision, and tears begin to seep from his eyes.
Don't think about your stomach, he instructs himself. Pick something else.
He thinks about Amo instead, how wonderful she is. She doesn't mind ordering him around and jumps at making any decisions for him. She lets him follow her around and even seems pleased at how dedicated he is to helping her. Amo doesn't mind his consistent company. She does basic stretches in the training yard while making him lift weights that made Enjin's jaw drop. She loads his trays with extra food to keep up his strength. (Seriously, Hii would say, if it wasn't for her, you would starve us and atrophy all your muscles that I need to fight. Absolutely useless worm.)
And she was so kind, too. Always asked before touching him, then giving tight hugs that made him melt and chase the affection embarrassingly. But she'd never get upset, just smiles and continue hugging him. She invited him to tea parties and picnics, and Hii had even taken a liking to her. Hii never took a liking to anyone.
Maybe, if Fu had met her before Enjin, she would be Fu's host for a good long while.
But… he couldn't burden her like that. She was already struggling in her own way. Taking care of him would be too much. So he did his best to give her some space as well. She started growing closer to the other Cleaners, especially Rudo. Those two became attached at the hip when not separated by missions. Fu loved to watch them from his little corners. Rudo would always become flustered at whatever Amo said, his face turning increasingly red before he'd cover his face with his gloves, and Amo would laugh.
They're cute together, Fu thinks. He's happy that Amo has someone to care about her. She wouldn't feel like needing to keep Fu around if someone else understood and cared for her. It would be easier for her to admit when she gets tired of him. Easier for her to let go when she has a safety net of people who could love her like she deserved to be loved.
Yeah. He was glad she had Rudo.
He turns towards the doors again, deflating as he realizes nobody has arrived. Hii buzzed in the back of his brain. Fu picked at the skin around his nails.
Come on, Hii finally speaks, though it's quieter than his usual. They're not coming. They forgot about us. Just go back to your room.
They forgot.
Fu swallows, applying this fact to his calculations. If they were already forgetting him… that meant he had less time with the Cleaners than he previously thought. That meant they were already silently trying to get rid of him. Perhaps they were even less tolerant than Zodyl; maybe he wasn't doing enough, and they had already realized the amount of food and water he took was too much.
If they forgot him, then he supposes that Hii's orders could take effect. He stands on shaking legs as his head shoots with pain, whimpering and clutching it. He manages a few unsteady steps towards the bathroom before the doors open.
"Kid, this is the last time I'm helping you sneak a late-night treat, I swear—"
Fu flinches at the sudden light, but smiles politely and laces his fingers together as Enjin's gaze falls on him.
"Mr. Enjin, s-sir! I finished cleaning the mess hall, ready for your next orders," he spouts, forcing down the pain and sickness and trying not to wince.
His host blinks strangely at him, and Rudo's brows furrow next to him. "Fu, it's 22:00. Why are you still working?"
Oh. Fu didn't realize how late it was. "U-um, well, I was ordered to clean up from dinner by um—Mr. Tamsy, but I didn't know how much he wanted me to do. So I swept the floors, and then mopped them. A-and took out the compost, washed all the kitchenware—and the ovens and fryers and other appliances. Then I wiped down all the counters, tables, and benches. Um, I was waiting for further instructions b-but nobody came." His brain hurt as he tried to remember everything. Speaking only made it worse, but he tried his best to push through it. He gave Enjin a wobbly smile, who only frowned.
"I—okay," Enjin rubs his face. "I'll talk to him later. Future reference, you can just sweep the floors and wipe the tables. The kitchen staff takes care of their stuff, and if they don't, that's their problem."
Fu blushes furiously. "I'm sorry, sir!" He squeaks, and Enjin raises a hand. He shut his mouth quickly. He already messed up. But he didn't know! Enjin couldn't punish him for something he didn't know… right? Such a fact didn't stop his former hosts, but Enjin was different! Enjin was kind; he didn't punish the Cleaners when they messed up! He'd be nicer to his minion, wouldn't he? The anxiety didn't help his already upset stomach, and he took a few deep breaths to try to calm down.
"You don't look good," Rudo comments beside him, and Fu yelps, stumbling over himself. The kid was sneaky! He didn't even realize Rudo had come up to him until he spoke. His head pangs with the commotion, and he winces again, before quickly trying to hide it.
"I'm f-fine," he manages to stammer out as Rudo's wide red eyes meet his. Rudo stares at him, observing him like a bug. His eyes reflect ever so faintly against the lights, as all Givers do, but the blood-red gaze seems to pierce right through him. It's a little creepy, Fu thinks, but shoves the thought away quickly.
"Fu, c'mere to the hallway where there's more light," Enjin beckons, and Fu follows to the blinding light automatically.
It assaults his senses, and he has to squeeze his eyes shut. He tries to peel them back open, but the light shoots through his head like fire. He slaps a hand over his mouth to stifle the whimper and the lurching feeling in his stomach. No, he was slipping! He had to pull it together. He couldn't show weakness. Not to his host. He was a good, reliable servant. A little illness wouldn't keep him from obeying orders.
He inhales and exhales shakily, cracking his eyes open. "What are your next—hngh!" he cuts himself off as he covers his mouth tighter, clutching his stomach. His eyes mist, and he struggles with an inhale. Get it together Fu, he tells himself. Don't be a baby. The pain crackles through his head as if he'd been struck by lightning. He could deal with this. He had to deal with this.
"Shit, kid, you aren't looking good."
Fu shakes his head lightly, the movement agonizing. "I'm alright, sir. I swear." He forces his arms down at his sides and holds his eyes open to look at his boss. "Your minion is ready for anything you need!"
His body decides to betray him then and there, as he gags loudly, vomit rising in his throat.
Fu slams both hands over his mouth, desperately trying to swallow it back down as tears burst from his eyes. It's luckily not enough to escape past his lips, and Enjin stares at him with a horrified expression.
The man looks around wildly before landing on a closet door, yanking it open and digging around. He pulls out a bucket and shoves it under Fu's face. "Spit it out," he orders, and Fu gladly obeys as his stomach heaves its contents.
His whole body trembles, tears streaming down his face. "I'm s-so sorry sir," he hiccups as he finishes. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."
"It's okay," Enjin simply says. "Let's go to the medbay. That's an order."
Enjin loops an arm around his shoulders, nudging him forward. Somewhere in the chaos, Rudo makes a comment about Eishia and scrambles away. Fu seizes up at that. Another person to burden. He sobs, apologies spilling out of his throat.
That's it, it's over. He can't hide his illness from Enjin anymore, and Enjin can see just how weak and useless he is. He's already wasted the Cleaner's precious food. He's already shown he's a sickly, useless idiot. And now Rudo's off to bother others and make them also deal with his problems. More people that will get frustrated. More people that will abandon him. Leaving them might be worse than the Raiders. At least the Raiders gave him the mercy of not telling him to kick it to his face.
He barely registers as they go into the medbay, the cursed light disappearing for a moment. Enjin removes his arm. "Sit down," he orders, and Fu collapses to the floor instantly. "Not on the—okay. Okay." He places the bucket in front of Fu. "If you need to throw up again, do it in the bucket. It's okay."
Enjin flips the light switch on, and Fu can't stop the shriek, palms digging into his eyes as another crack of lightning strikes his brain.
The light turns off instantly, and Fu sobs in relief. "Oh, you got a migraine, kid?" Enjin's voice drops to a whisper. "Okay. I'll grab some meds. Be right back."
Fu shakes his head rapidly. "S-sir, you don't—you don't have to waste medicine on me." He hiccups back his sobs, curling into himself as the white-hot agony lets him do nothing but cry in pain.
He hears the other suck in a breath, grunting to himself. "Shh, it's okay, I'll take care of it. Just relax, kid." Feet pad away from him, cabinets rummaging open.
He vaguely hears the sound of a jinki activating, flinching, and looking up. Enjin is just using Umbreaker's light to look through the medicine drawers. Okay. Umbreaker's not being used on him, at least not for the moment.
The image festers in his brain, nonetheless, and he lunges for the bucket again. It's more watery this time, stomach bile coating his tongue. He spits it out, cringing at the taste.
Enjin is back soon, sitting himself down next to Fu. "I'm gonna give you a pill. Chew it when you feel like you're not gonna puke immediately." He puts the small tablet into Fu's shaking hands.
Fu grips it tightly, terrified of dropping it. He breathes, waiting a few minutes as his stomach settles before putting it in his mouth and chewing as instructed. It tastes horrible and makes his stomach contract again, but he forces himself not to vomit until it fully dissolves. He pukes one more time, after it, trying to keep the medicine in his mouth. He clutches the bucket miserably, sniffling.
"I'm so sorry," he whispers. "I tried not to."
"Oh, kid,” Enjin’s voice is soft, barely above a breath to not aggravate Fu’s pain. He pulls closer to the boy, arms outstretched. Circles rub into his back, pulling him towards a warm embrace.
Fu collapses against him before he can realize what he's doing. Enjin's fingers card through his hair, soothing motions that would make Fu melt if he weren't in such distress.
"It's okay. Happens. We'll try again in a bit." Enjin's hand reaches for another thing, lifting Fu's face away from him to place a gel-like headband of sorts on him, sweeping away his bang as he tugs it down to settle on Fu's forehead.
It cools his skin, seeping through his brain. It doesn't fix the pain, but it takes the edge off enough. He curls back into his host's warmth, a tiny rumble of silent laughter from Enjin's chest, before hands wrap back around him.
Fu bites his lip as he realizes his situation. Bothering Enjin and Rudo with his problem. Unable to complete orders. Wasting scarce food and medicine. Forcing Enjin to take care of him. Eishia and who knows else were dragged into his mess. The mistakes just keep tallying up. He's stolen so much from his host that he never had the right to take.
It’s almost like he can see it now. Enjin’s pallor skin and haughty frame. Tired eyes and a disappointed frown. A man who’s been drained of all compassion for a boy who steals the lifeforce of those around him.
When he first saw Enjin, first heard his dedication to not leaving his people behind, there had been a fleeting hope. A brief, ridiculous moment where he thought that maybe, maybe if he became a Cleaner, he could become one of those people.
It lasted a few minutes before reality kicked back in. He knew better than that. Hii reminded him so. Fu wasn't people. Fu was a lackey, a minion, a thing to order around and forget about when not needed. It was the way things always were. So he grounded his fantasies in reality and thought that maybe Enjin would care enough to keep him around longer, that some guilt would push him past a normal host's tolerance. It was a selfish thought, but Fu clung to it.
He should've realized the false hope would bite him in the ass. It must've made him sloppy, too comfortable. Too slow with his work, too needy with his food.
He's taken too much, too soon. He’ll be kicked out in the morning, perhaps.
But maybe, just maybe, tonight he can ignore that. Tonight, he can settle in the warmth and take from that kindness as he huddles on the cold floor. Maybe tonight he’ll get his fill before the inevitable happens.
A decision he doesn't want to make, that goes against everything he promised himself. Funny how just a little bit of kindness can smash through his defenses.
Another sob hitches in his throat, and he grips Enjin's shirt tighter. His paint is definitely smearing onto the other's clothes, another burden, and Fu tries not to think about the punishment for it as he breathes in the smoky scent clinging to the fabric.
Fu drowns everything out as he focuses on the warmth of Enjin's body and the cigarette smoke scent in the air. His stomach finally feels empty enough that he won't throw up anymore. If he closes his eyes tightly enough, he can pretend nothing else exists outside the little bubble of safety.
"There we go," murmurs above him, and Fu is practically boneless as Enjin starts running fingers through his hair again. When was the last time someone was this gentle with him? Fu couldn't remember. Years, at least, he thinks. He almost forgot what it was like.
It's nice. He feels… safe.
Snap out of it, idiot.
Fu nearly bashes Enjin in the chin as he pulls away, scrambling in his pocket for Hii. Enjin releases him without much hesitation, hands immediately raised placatingly.
"Hey, it's okay. I'm not mad," he whispers to Fu, like calming a cornered animal.
He's just lying, Hii notes, with a sound almost like a clicking of a tongue. There's no way he's not angry. He knows how much you’ve stolen from him and how useless you are. Remember that we're done here.
"I—" Fu starts, before clamping his mouth shut. Talking still hurts. His head still hurts. He runs his tongue over his lips. "I don't think I will throw up any more, sir."
Enjin promised him more meds. Would he go back on his word? Maybe. But Fu decided to push it. Everything was already a lost cause as is. (He decided, and this time he managed to squash down the sick realization from that crawling up his throat.)
Surprisingly, the man dug out another pill, letting Fu chew and swallow it. This one stayed down. Another pill was plopped into his hand, and Fu blinked.
"Swallow this one." A small cup of water accompanied it, and Fu obeyed. "Should help with the pain. Had to wait until you could keep stuff down, sorry."
He whimpers quietly, and the door creaks open. Fu shuts his eyes as the hallway light increases, and he hears shuffling as the Cleaners begin whispering to one another. He can hear Eishia and Rudo's voices, and he tangles his fingers together as he prepares himself to shove down the pain.
"I'm sorry for bothering all of you, sir," he says, slowly standing himself up. "I—I can return to my quarters and deal with this problem. You don't have to burden yourself with me anymore."
Enjin makes a grumbling noise. His hand clenches and unclenches, and he looks at Fu with a stoic expression. Oh. Finally, he's mad. The line has been crossed. He spoke out of turn, perhaps, and his host couldn't take it anymore. He's been too independent, asking too much when he's never gotten permission. Fu flinches, fingers running against Hii's tail. His eyes dart to the exit, panic settling in his chest as he realizes it was blocked. Hii didn't need to tell him he was an idiot this time, as his fingers already reached to his hair and pulled.
Of course. He was trapped in here now. The door was blocked off, and Shikage's power barred the windows. He couldn't escape.
His host was finally realizing how much of a leech Fu was and was going to punish him for it.
Fu dropped to his knees on instinct, pressing his forehead to the floor as he groveled. His head screamed at the sudden movement, black spots dancing across Fu's vision. He pushed through it. "I'm sorry, sir," he says for the billionth time that night. He doesn't say any more. Any attempt to excuse his actions never ends well. He knows better.
There is a sharp inhale from Enjin, which makes Fu cringe. Tears already start to build up again. He wonders what the Cleaners do for discipline. Zodyl would leave him alone, tell all the other Raiders not to interact with him. It was much less painful than previous hosts, but much more effective as Fu trembled, frozen in inaction from lack of orders.
"Sit up." He jerks up instantly, staring up at Enjin looming over him. He swallows, eyes darting to Eishia and Rudo, who have decidedly left the scene. Oh. Enjin was such a good leader, keeping the kids away from witnessing the brutal punishments of his minion, sparing them the sight.
Fu doesn't move until he's told, waiting for Enjin to decide his fate. Hii is barely a background buzz in his head. The demon doll cannot do anything unless Fu's life is at risk. It's part of their pact, but it means he cannot do anything but watch until it reaches that point.
His brain comes back into focus, watching as Enjin's face studies him. The man has an expression… pity? Fu isn't good at reading faces. But a frown tugs at his lips, and Fu cannot understand for the life of him why Enjin looks sad. He should be angry!
"Kid, I need you to talk to me here. What… do you think is gonna happen?" The words are strained, like Enjin is choking on them.
The blood drains from Fu's face. Is Enjin making him choose his punishment? No. There's no way he could know about that. No way he could dig into his past and find out about the incident. Fu shakes, breath caught in his throat, and his head pulsing. He steadies himself, trying to keep it vague. "Punishment, sir," he says quietly. "I h-have burdened you tonight. I need to be corrected for it." It's a bit more of a question, allowing his host to take control. He's not telling Enjin what to do.
A small thump sounds out as Enjin kneels, sitting back on his haunches. A hand drags down his face, fingers twitching for a light. One hand begins to reach out to Fu, before snapping back to his side. "Fu, look at me."
It's a simple command. Fu raises his gaze to meet Enjin's eyes, gently glowing and providing an eerie contrast against the hallway light haloing him.
"Nobody is going to hurt you here, Fu. I don't—I don't know how to make you believe that right now. How do I make you believe that?"
The words are strange, like he couldn't process them at first. They wash over Fu like water from a faucet, slipping past his skin and down a drain. He picks the words out carefully, stringing them together and staring at a puzzle that doesn't look quite right. "I don't understand, sir. You're… not going to punish me?"
"No, I'm not."
Fu grips his pant leg tight, scrunching the fabric. He wants to believe that his host isn't lying about this, but the possibility of it still simmers under his skin. "Okay, sir," he manages to mutter out.
They sit there for a while, at an impasse.
The pounding in his head finally begins to dull, the medicine Enjin so graciously gave him taking effect. Tears are still dripping down his chin onto his shirt, staining it. Hii sits in his pocket, quiet as the curse contemplates the words spoken as well.
Enjin breaks the quiet eventually, hand reached out palm-up. "How about we get you back to your room, huh? You can sleep off the rest of this migraine, and then in the morning, we can figure all this out."
In the morning, he'll leave. He can parse that well enough. "Yes, sir," Fu replies automatically, taking the offered hand. He lets Enjin guide him once again, following mindlessly to his room. He washes off his paint mask in the bathroom, slipping into his nightclothes, and curls into the bed as Enjin sits on the edge of it. He tries his very best not to let Enjin see his face.
A hand begins carding through his hair again. Against his better judgment, Fu sinks into the touch.
"You're one of us now, kid," Enjin says, "that means we're not leaving you. I'm not leaving you. Do you understand that?"
Fu trembles. Is it really true? There's no way. He hugs Hii tight against his body. "I don't know if I do, sir," he mumbles into the sheets, and Enjin sighs.
"Well then, we'll just have to keep proving it until you're convinced. This is your home now, and nobody's gonna abandon you. You're staying with us."
His heart clenches, insides twisting around as he mulls over those words. Enjin sounds so convincing. He really sounds like he would let a parasite like Fu stay forever. It sounds too good to be true.
I don't trust him either, Hii says in the back of their mindspace, small and quiet. The curse's voice wavers, choosing his words carefully. But… I don't think he's lying. I want to believe he's not lying.
Enjin slowly leaves the room, and Fu waits until the man's footsteps fade out as he pulls the doll up to his face. "I want to believe him, too," he replies. "Do you really think he'll keep us around for longer, Master Hii?"
The doll stares at him silently for a few moments. Maybe… Hii says eventually. Maybe he sees something in us good enough to keep around.
Warmth blooms in Fu's chest, wrapping his arms tightly around the doll as he pulls the covers up further. He can't help the small smile at the corner of his lips.
"I really hope he does."