Chapter Text
The talking vacuum that had earlier introduced herself as Vance left through their door with a flourish, as the last notes of his song echoed through their empty house. Well, empty except for the three occupants, who were still catching their breath after the wind whirl that had been that day’s lesson.
The day had started, as usual, with the three of them arguing about whose turn it was to clean the breakfast dishes. Neither the Tall Red One nor the Short Duck-Like One wanted to do so, each insisting they had done so the last time (whenever that occasion had been). However, neither of them was willing to listen as the Young Yellow One offered to do the task for them. After all, they wanted the dishes clean, not broken out of clumsiness. It was around that time that their teacher for the day arrived, singing a happy song about the importance of cleaning and the perils of a dirty house.
It was almost funny, considering Vance the Vacuum only ever seemed to make everything dirtier as he went on, instead of actually helping them at all.
At one point, the house became so dirty that they had trouble navigating it. Every surface had been covered in a thick layer of grime, and so much dust that it was physically impossible to see where they were going, or even breathe without a coughing fit. The Yellow one could still feel it stinging his nose and eyes, the heavy scent of mould and rot, even now that the house was spotless.
He turned to see his companions and was a bit relieved that they seemed to be as tense as he was. That was good. It meant he hadn’t imagined it, and he wasn’t making a fuss over nothing. He couldn’t help but worry about that sometimes.
The Red One was the first to react after their teacher left. He gave a long breath and unclenched the fists at his sides, but his shoulders seemed as tense as ever, despite his best efforts of pretending otherwise. The Yellow One found it as comforting as worrying, how he was always the one to try and react calmly, even when everyone could see his posture stiff with stress, and his breaths came out short and uneven as he tried to control them.
The contrast was especially visible now, with the way the remains of their lesson, grime and dirt, and a viscous black substance none of them could identify, stuck to his fur in patches, leaving the usual bright red colour looking closer to a disgusting brown. Still, he had somehow fared better than the Duck One.
“Are you alright?” the Red One said, and though it wasn’t really directed at anyone specifically, the Yellow One could see his eyes shifting slightly towards the Duck’s hand.
At one point during the lesson, their teacher had brought a bunch of chemicals with labels that didn’t seem to make sense, no matter how many times they read them. Yellow couldn’t remember whose idea it had been to use them all at once to unclog their sink, but when that failed, it had landed on Duck to put his hand in to do it manually, as the Red one was deemed too big for the task, and Yellow had been too busy puking from the smell.
It had been a bad idea, as they soon realized. The chemicals had melted straight through Duck’s feathers and skin, leaving a pulsing mass of jelly-like muscle and the barest hint of bone peeking through. If Yellow hadn’t emptied his stomach before, he would’ve done so then.
Right now, the flesh in his hand had passed from an angry scarlet to a sickly greenish-grey, and it looked more bloated than raw by the second, being the only thing in the house that still smelled strongly acrid. Yellow would’ve found it fascinating if the other two’s faces didn’t give away how repugnant it was supposed to be.
“How do you think I am, you beast?!” Duck answered, not as shrilly as one might expect. All his energy seemed to be concentrated on holding his mangled hand together.
In other circumstances, the Red One would’ve probably risen to the bait and begun a lengthy argument with the Duck. As it stood, however, he only gave a long-suffering sigh and turned to face the other fully.
“Come on. I’ll help you get cleaned up, and we can take a look at… that,” the Red One looked pointedly at the mess of the Duck’s hand and, despite the latter grumbling something about annoying beasts under his breath, he made his way to the bathroom.
The scene felt familiar, though Yellow wasn’t sure why.
He was just certain the Red one would try to fix the Duck, from whatever happened, just like he was certain that the next morning, after a night of rest and not talking about the events of the day, their new teacher would arrive. And by that point, somehow, there would be no trace of the events of the previous day, Duck’s injury included.
It was just how things were supposed to be, he supposed.
But that would be tomorrow. Right then, they had to deal with the aftermath. With their very clean house smelling like pine disinfectant, and their bodies, which somehow were the only things remaining dirty.
Red seemed to realize this at the same time Yellow did. Turning towards him before following the Duck to the bathroom.
“Do you… need help cleaning too?”
Yellow looked down on himself.
The Red One still had a lot of dirt and slime dripping in fat globs from the yarn on his head, and the Duck was not much better. His feathers were a tangled mess that would take hours to clean, at best. In comparison, the Yellow One wasn’t as bad. His overall had gotten the worst of it, but other than that, the other two needed their bathtub way more than he did.
“I think… only my clothes has dirty on it,” he said, and the Red One nodded, almost in gratitude.
“Ok, then. Put them in the, uh, hamper or something. We’ll get around to washing them… later.”
“We have a hamper?” Yellow asked in genuine surprise.
“I think so. Maybe,” Red answered, unconvinced. The Duck began tapping his foot, irritated at the time they were taking. “We have a closet, I reckon? Just look somewhere there and change while you’re at it.”
Yellow nodded. It was easy to follow the other two’s instructions most of the time, even if they sometimes seemed as unsure as he was of the words they were saying. The Yellow One didn’t actually know if they had a closet, and even if they did, he wasn’t sure it mattered. He trusted that by the morning, his clothes would be clean again, just like he trusted that Duck’s hand would be ok again.
Despite this, he did go get changed. Or at least he intended to.
As it turned out, they did have a closet in the bedroom. It was mostly occupied by the Duck’s suits and handkerchiefs, but the Yellow One was sure there had to be clothes of his… somewhere.
He wasn’t sure how much time he’d spent digging through the tight little space, but it was enough to turn their previously orderly room into complete chaos. Why did the Duck need so many suits, anyway? It wasn’t like he used them. At least as far as the Yellow One could remember.
It had also been enough time that, just as the Yellow One began throwing around another pile of clothing, the Red One finally came out of the bathroom. His yarn was a knotted and wet mess, but at least it was clean, which was more than could be said about Yellow’s clothes.
“What the–” the Red One said, looking at the clothes strewn around the room, and then at the youngest of his roommates. “Why?”
Yellow had the decency to look abashed at the mess he’d made. The Red One didn’t yell as much as the Duck did, but it was easy to see when he was upset.
“I couldn’t find mine clothes,” he said with honesty.
The Red One looked around once more and sighed before leaning down to pick up the clothes closest to him.
“Just… hurry up before the Other One comes out. I’ll fold them in the morning, or something.”
He didn’t sound angry. He sounded tired. Which only made the Yellow One feel worse.
It wasn’t like he did these things on purpose. He hated the way his brain worked as much as his roommates did. For example, he knew his own clothes were somewhere in the closet, and he knew there must have been some way to get to them that was easy and orderly. He just didn’t know how to get to it.
And so, his own method. A complete mess.
He began picking up the clothes beside the Big Red One, and soon enough, they had everything put together in a pile in his larger arms.
“I’s sorry.”
The Red One sighed again.
“I know. Just… look, I’m pretty sure that whole side is for the Other One. Yours must be at the bottom of the other side.”
The Yellow One nodded. It made sense.
He opened the closet further to reveal the remaining part, and just as Red said, there was some space left. Enough to accommodate an old-looking trench coat, a shoe box, and…
“My clothes!”
He turned around to see if the Red One shared his emotion at the little neat pile of overalls next to the shoe box, but instead found his friend looking intently at the remaining item in the closet. The trench coat was tan and stiff with disuse. It also smelled oddly of paraffin, although that smell could have come from the closet, as well.
“Is it yours?” the Yellow asked, and felt stupid almost immediately after. The item was way too big to belong to him or the Duck. So logically…
“Nah… I don’t wear clothes.”
He said it in the same tone he said everything else. But regardless, it made something crawl on Yellow’s stomach. Perhaps it was the look in his friend's eyes. It was familiar, though Yellow couldn’t say from where. For some reason, the words “road trip” came to mind, but he shook them off quickly. They were impossible. After all, they had never left the house, and Red had never looked quite that frantic, either. He was sure.
Maybe the day really was getting to him.
As the Taller One stepped onwards, the Yellow One could see his hands trembling slightly, and he crouched towards the box on the floor. It was then that he noticed a piece of paper lying neatly on top, full of symbols that looked familiar, but not quite enough to understand.
“What does it say?” he asked, and the Red One shook his head.
The Yellow One felt his stomach drop. Normally, whenever he asked something, the Red One always had an answer, or at least he tried to. He didn’t like his friend being silent, nor the look on his face as he looked at the paper, utter confusion clear as his eyes flew from one symbol to the next.
“Sorry, mate,” he said after a while. “I don’t know.”
The Yellow One sighed in disappointment, which only made the Red One seem even more tense beside him.
“Do you… want to open it?”
“Uh? Me?” The Yellow One asked, confused. Usually, the other two were very adamant that he shouldn’t touch anything he wasn’t familiar with, unless one of them gave him permission. You never knew when a new teacher would appear out of nowhere, just because one of them wanted to open a box of biscuits or something.
However, this time the Red One nodded, passing the box almost forcefully to him, as if he couldn’t bear looking at it anymore. Yellow paid it no mind, excitedly taking his new task, only for his enthusiasm to die as soon as he opened the lid.
“It’s just… batteries,” he said, unenthused. He already had batteries. He didn’t need another pair, or at least he thought.
He was so busy thinking about this that he barely noticed the Red One turning back at him and taking the box from him.
“Hey, I think the Other One should be done with the tub about now. Why don’t you go over and wash yourself a bit before bed?”
The Yellow One frowned. He wasn’t sure what to make of his friend’s sudden change of aptitude, and couldn’t help but feel just a bit… angry? At the very least annoyed at the dismissal.
Before he could voice any of it, however, Red turned to face him, the box still clutched tightly in his hands, and Yellow swore he saw a bit of blue on the normally dark irises of his eyes.
“Kid, please?”
The Yellow One finally nodded, at which the other man sighed and let his shoulders relax a bit. As Yellow turned to see if, in fact, the bathroom was already empty, he risked one more look at his friend, only to see him, once more, opening the closet, most likely to leave the box where they found it.
Yellow hummed in thought. He was probably making a bigger deal out of it than it should. He was sure that by tomorrow the box would be just another thing his stupid brain would forget in favour of more important things, like the characters from Grolton & Hovris, or the lessons of the day.
After all, the Red One would never intentionally hurt him. Of that he was sure.