Chapter Text
Rudo has always seen Enjin do it.
Rudo has never seen the blonde man without a long, white cylinder stick hanging off his bottom lip. It was almost weird to not see him without it. It was a part of his persona.
Rudo has always wondered why Enjin was so attached to those sticks.
They smelled awful, and they lingered wherever Enjin stood. The scent lingered off his coat and it masks whatever perfume the man uses, and his breath always smells like it. Hallways permeated with the scent that snitched that Enjin was there. Rooms that smelled of smoke that stayed, even after hours once the blonde man had left the area long ago.
The scent burns Rudo’s nose whenever he goes, especially when he’s near Enjin. It wasn’t a good scent. The kid doesn’t understand how the others could handle it.
Especially Gris.
That was, til, he started to get used to it.
Rudo started getting used to the scent of the awful smoke that lingered around Enjin. Getting used to the smoke burning his eyes and blinding his nose from using it. Being able to differentiate whether Enjin had gotten himself cheap ones or expensive ones.
The cheaper ones had more of a fake scent, and Enjin seemed more unlikely to be comfortable and calm. Whereas the more expensive ones had more of a stronger scent, and an underlining floral taste. Minty. Enjin had also only seemed to use those twice a day compared to half the pack with the cheaper ones.
It got to a point with Rudo where he’d wait for Enjin to light one, for him to sit beside the man with a blank face. The blonde always raised a brow at him but only grinned and ruffled his hair, which made the experience better.
The scent had soon started to cling inside Rudo. A linger in his nose and a taste in his mouth. A wave of calm washing over him.
Soon, sitting beside Enjin was no longer enough.
The smell of dirty, ugly smoke didn’t calm and blind his senses anymore. Not in the way he wanted it to.
So, Rudo had then made up his mind in the middle of the night. Where he was pacing his room. With a horrid shake in his hands, it’s usual chronic episodes hitting him. A flaming chill running from his fingers to his elbows, flowing from whatever exposed crack they claw their way out of and seeping into his already dirty bandages. Puffing out heaving breaths as he continues to pace his room, the darkness of the night could only soothe so much.
While Rudo knows it’s a good idea for him to lay down and regulate his breathing, or even ask Eishia for help(even this late at night), he doesn’t seem to want to bother with those ideas.
And as he continues to pace, a certain smell seeps from under his door, stopping him in his tracks and snapping his head towards his door. The heavy sound of boots, 3 pairs, and heel clicking draws his attention, along with laughter.
Down the hall and towards the front.
That’s right, it’s Friday. A date where all the older Cleaners and Supporters go out drinking and come back the next day with horrible hangovers but with a calm that only seemed to wash over the adults. A night out in the street before the weekend. A usual holiday they celebrate.
But only one thing sticks out to Rudo.
That Smokey scent.
The white cylinder that always hangs off Enjin’s lip.
The cigarettes.
Rudo’s heart starts to race at the scent that wraps around his lungs and tugs them hard enough for Rudo to sit on the edge of his bed. Taking in greedy breaths of the scent, and the sense of calm that starts to pulse through him. The minty undertone cooling his insides.
And.
And…
And… a numbing effect that makes the shake in his hands slow til it stops, only a light throb that he can describe as ticklish.
Rudo’s eyes widened at the feeling. The way that his hands start to calm, and his heart starts to race for another reason. Making an excited scoff escape his lips as a giggle dare starts to crawl up his throat. Better yet, how hot tears burn at his lower lash line.
Was that really it?
Was that all it took for the pain in his hands to die down to a compatible throb and a chilling tickling sensation?
The scent of an ugly smog with a floral taste and minty undertone?
Enjin’s cigarettes? Was all it took for the feeling of utter agony to nearly cease?
A light laugh mixed with a sob escapes Rudo, his shoulders shaking as the tears begin rolling down his cheeks.
So that’s all it fucking took?
The shaking in Rudo’s shoulders cease and his eyes snap open when the scent of Enjin’s cigarettes die and the sounds of shoes stop echoing down the hallway. Even the click of large, metal doors ring in his ears. Then, the pain starts wallowing back into his hands and it makes Rudo stand quickly, ignoring the lightheadedness that throbs his skull before he’s rushing forward towards his bedroom door and throwing it open. The cigarette smell in the hallway no longer there either makes Rudo bite his bottom lip til it bleeds.
Taking deep breaths as he stands at his open doorframe, Rudo tries to calm himself despite the growing pain and discomfort in his hands. A sense of nausea prickling in the back of his throat and Rudo starts walking forward.
Down the hall and turning two corners under the flickering lights above him. The yellow of the led lights make the hallway look old and sickly, but he ignores his surroundings as he blinks suddenly and stops before Enjin’s room. The man’s name etched in the metal door.
Gris’ own neatly written name under Enjin’s that's then doodled with yellow hearts in Enjin’s handwriting. That’s right, they share the same room now.
But Rudo doesn’t let that deter him. Pushing the door open to peek into the adults room, checking for anything that’ll snitch on him.
He’s met with nothing, only a blue dimmed room that his eyes adjust to quickly and it brightens just so slightly. The room isn’t anything special, a bit messy with all sorts of posters and some other stuff and items, things that make a room look cozy and lived in. But Rudo isn’t here for that.
Quickly as he came out of his room, he enters Gris’ and Enjin’s room as he closes the door behind himself. His nose was already twitching and breathing in deeply to find the scent of the object he was looking for.
Enjin’s cigarettes.
Not that they were much hard to find, either.
They sat innocently on the desk that’s littered with report papers and other papers that have rings of coffee stains on them. A stone holder that had the cigarette pack propped up proudly against it, the contained smell oh so tempting to Rudo.
And he falls for it.
He moves forward rather quickly, almost tripping over himself in the process of rushing over towards the desk. Rudo is glad the pack is sitting on proud display against the ashtray, picking up the green plastic box to give a peek inside and the teen’s heart starts to rush. It was full— almost completely so!
Only three were picked off, meaning Enjin had left with one lit and left the box. Testing his luck, Rudo was slow and steady with opening the desk drawer to look inside, seeing nothing but random bullshit that didn’t catch his attention.
Meaning his action was done.
Pocketing Enjin’s cigarettes in his sleep pants, Rudo tries to keep ignoring the blooming and burning pain in his hands up till he could reach his room again. Just as he entered both the blondes room, he’s out of the room just as quick as he slipped in. Down the hallway and turning the two corners, Rudo reaches his room rather quickly. Only checking down both halls from left to right to make sure no one can catch him, he slips into his room.
Shutting the door quickly, Rudo locks it then makes sure he hears it click before he’s sliding down his door. His heart beating so fast he swears it can leap out of his throat, and the throbbing in his chest is almost enough to overcome the pain throbbing in his hands.
Almost.
A grunt of pain escapes Rudo as his hands again, flare up, a molten agony pushes against the cracked skin under his bandages and Rudo is victim to falling onto his side and curling up into a fetal position tightly. Hands curled together and held close to his chest, heaving gasps leaving his lips as tears brim his eyes, yet they don’t fall, this is a pain he’s used to but also could never escape. It clings to him like it’s trying to kill him.
As the teen tries to control his breathing, he almost forgets why he even left his room. Until he feels an awful block digging into his bony thigh and that’s when he realizes what he had taken.
Sitting up shakily, he bites his tongue to hide the groan that wishes to escape. But he does take a minute break to catch his heaves and calm himself down.
Digging into his pocket, Rudo is slow to pull out the pack of cigarettes that suddenly weigh way too heavy, halting his movement in his pocket. Was this a mistake? A rushed shot? A heat of the moment situation?
Did he really mean to take it?
Did he really want to do this?
Pulling the box out completely from his pocket then, Rudo looks down at the green box that sits in his gloves.
Once again, the thoughts rush through his brain.
A mistake? Heat of the moment? Was there a real need?
… Was he going to get in trouble?
Will Enjin be mad at him?
A worry starts to build in his chest before it’s simultaneously shot through when the ugly smog and minty hint waft up his nose. Even with the box closed, Rudo could still smell the scent of the cigs in their confines. Not even being able to be properly hidden behind the nice, thick cardboard of the pack.
Maybe this wasn’t a bad idea..
The teen brings the box up to his nose slowly til the top of the pack is right under his nose and Rudo takes in a deep breath.
The smell of burned tobacco curls up into his nose, sifting down his throat and into his lungs. The taste of something floral runs its fingers over his tongue and it makes a flavoured drool seep down his throat, making him swallow thickly. The minty aftertaste sends a numbing sensation through his body and the shaking in his hands starts to fade, melting oh so slightly and it makes him stand up quickly.
Maybe using his window would be the best idea for this, but Rudo wasn’t clearly thinking. Plus, using the window means he’s trying to get the scent to dissipate and not linger. Which is something he needs, to sit and bask in the cloud of smog like he does when Enjin smokes.
Rummaging through his scrap piles, Rudo knows that there should be a fixed lighter or two in them. Then he remembers, turning his attention towards his cubby shelf, he moves towards it to open the very last to bottom shelf and pick out a gold block that he had fixed and polished. A lighter. The Sphereite symbol etched into the side of the golden square makes him scowl, but its purpose would be used.
Rudo had found it while trash picking with Enjin and Follo. Other picks and pieces while sifting through the garbage, Rudo saw the golden square hidden underneath a clock and a scale. It was rusty, and grime had built up around it, and it was greasy with lighter fuel, but Rudo knew he could fix it.
Plus, the Sphereite symbol that was etched into the golden was an eyesore. Not even the grime could hide that. He thought he could fix it up and give it to Enjin.
Whether to use or to sell.
To sell would be better, since the man knew to sell Sphereite belongings.
The lighter was also of pure metal, Rudo could tell. It was heavy, in a cozy sense. Meaning big bucks for Enjin.
Yet at this moment, the lighter no longer had its awaited future of being sold for money. Held tightly and securely in Rudo’s shaking, gloved hand. It was held even cherishingly. The teen had found it a good use now.
Now, Rudo knew that smoking one of these things in the stark middle of his room was a bad idea. It’d get him caught immediately and if not that, the smell will seep under his door and get him caught quicker. And again, he’s not doing it outside the window— so, the connected bathroom was the next best thing. Especially with the door that Rudo had been granted to install, the teen is very thankful for that at this moment.
Striding into his bathroom, Rudo shuts and locks the door behind him again. Maneuvering himself deeper into the room to even settle himself in the tub of his shower. Curved comfortably, if he does say so himself.
Looking back down at the pack of cigarettes, the teen halts for a moment.
Does he… want to do this?
But before he could spiral, a shrill pang of pain shoots through his hands aggressive enough to make him hiss and drop both lighter and pack in his lap.
“Fuck—“ Rudo grunts, teeth clenched tightly.
With shaking hands, Rudo grabs the pack again and practically rips open the cover. Pulling out one of the cigs, the muted scent hits him once more and with a deep breath, Rudo lets the stick sit between his lips as he reaches down for the lighter to open it harshly. Getting it to flick on was easy as well, as his gloves gave its required friction in order to spark the flame.
Letting said fire hover at the end of the cigarette, Rudo’s pupils blow wide when he sees the flame catch the paper and start to smoke, signaling for Rudo to shut the flame and inhale the smoke.
And that he does, a deep intake of smoke that enters his lungs, and that’s when everything goes— numb.
So, it’s no wonder that Enjin does this.
The smog that enters his lungs burns in a way that feels good rather than it being painful. An earthy flavour digs in his tongue and the mint underneath makes drool pool in his mouth. The shake and ache in his hands completely disappear as he leans his head back against the rim of the tub. Eyes widely staring up at the ceiling as a certain numbness overcomes him, making a cool feeling rush down his spine and down into his hands.
This feeling— this sensation. It was, it was needed.
He needed this.
Rudo needed this.
He can't feel the pressuring agony or ache in his hands. Even when he breathes the smoke out from his nose and watches as the grey smog curls up above him. Watching the smoke curl and dance around him, Rudo keeps taking little inhales of the cigarette now after the deep one, wanting this to last as long as possible.
His eyes feel heavy, a feeling of sleep so heavy and so intense, he didn’t think the sense of exhaustion would ever come to him like this again.
Rudo had almost missed it.
He’s only ever felt this type of exhaustion back up top on the Sphere, though even with the pain in his hands back then, he still felt a bone deep exhaustion. But, he only felt it when he was with Regto.
His father.
Regto had a sort of calm air about him— He smelled of very old and worn paper, the paper that had a yellow-y tint to them. The ones that oddly smelled nice despite their age and how dusty the paper was. And ink. Not to mention ink, with an iron-y undertone, and weirdly smelled of lavender. But it belonged to Regto. It was his father’s scent.
A scent he could never forget. One he always tried to replicate down once he made contact with the Ground.
Surprisingly, despite having tons and tons of trash always dumped on them nearly monthly, they had much more stuff than he did back on the Sphere.
But they never had anything that he could replicate in a similar way to what his dad used to smell like. No matter how much ink shops and book shops he went into with Team Child and Remlin, or Libraries he joined Zanka and Follo on. Nothing really bad about the scent that reminded him so of Regto. Rudo had even asked Remlin if they could recreate such a scent with their jinki— with no luck anyways.
But he doesn't let that bother him. At least, to other people at least. Because it bothered him.
Not being able to smell his dad ever again— only hints of him that he could barely catch when he isn’t really paying attention. It always takes his focus away, whether on missions or on regular outings. It had nearly gotten him hurt or worse, lost during big crowds. (Though he was always easily found since he always finds himself “window-shopping sweet shops”, as Riyo put it.)
Now, as he sits in the tub looking up at the ceiling— a deep sigh comes out of him, feeling the entire cavity of his chest slowly sink himself more into the tub. Letting himself slide until the back of his head hits and drain and his feet stick over against the wall, Rudo takes another deep inhale of the cigarette before raising his hand pulling it away to tap the ashes outside of the tub. Red eyes blink slowly as he watches the smoke curl and rise around him.
Keeping his mouth close and sighing deeply through his nose, Rudo watches as the smoke forces through his nose in strong gusts and then into thick clouds. Like how Enjin did it all the time.~
Though, the trick isn’t worth it since there is a significant burn deep in his nose enough to make him sneeze.
Shaking his head slightly, Rudo sits back up til his shoulder is flushed under the faucet of the tub and takes another intake of the cig that was sitting between his gloves. Said gloves engulfing the small white stick to look into something smaller, especially when the charring end is slowly growing closer to the spongy filter. The albino stares at what’s left of the stick before bringing it back up to his lips and taking a last, shaky, deep breath. Letting the smoke settle and hold in his lungs til they start to burn.
It almost reminds him of the Boss’ coffee kettle when the man makes his daily coffee.
When Rudo looks at the last of the cigarette, only the filter stares back at him. A dark, stained brown colour glares daggers at him, as if nagging him. Not that he minds, especially if he flicks it into his trash can.
Then, a minute passes. Maybe a little over a minute.
The buzzing from the bathroom’s overhead mirror light shoves cotton into his ears as the light starts to darken at the edges of his eyes. The exhaustion pulling at his eyelids and making them droop, but all he could do is stare up at the ceiling for a little more. No more smoke in his lungs, but the scent of the cigarette sits in his bathroom, letting him wallow and imbed in his walls.
“I should get up..” Rudo mutters to himself, blinking slowly, then letting a few more minutes pass while he sits in the tub.
Finally, the albino boy gets up.
Slow and steady, shaky on his hands as the numbness still makes them feel like they’re not there, and he stands in the middle of his tub. Looking around as if he dropped something, but he didn’t. No, the lighter he used sits nicely in his other hand. Its golden gleam winking at him. As if he enjoyed being used for its new job.
Good.
And the pack, by the look of the sticks, he’d have to go through them slowly before he steals— he hates that— from Enjin again.
Blinking, Rudo finally gets out of the tub and leaves his bathroom slowly, letting sleep slowly and slowly close his eyes. But firstly— he must hide his newfound habit. Looking around his dimmed room, Rudo’s eyes land on the most perfect place.
A cabinet in his crafted shelves, it’s fully brimmed, but if he shoves some stuff over, he can fully hide both light and cigarette pack.
And that’s what he does. A little drawer of all sorts of Knick-Knacks, some things that’ll fix a plushie or a few things that’d he’d use on a bigger project. Either way, it’s a perfect place to hide his stolen items.
When Rudo thinks he’s hidden them well, he nods to himself. Nearly falling to his knees when his body catches up that it’s done with the day, making him quickly spin on his heel and basically toss himself onto his bed. A deep sigh escapes his lips as he snuggles into his cool pillow and blanket. Even kicking his feet a little as he fixes himself and makes himself comfortable.
Sleep was quick to take him. His eyes fluttering shut and his hands wonderfully numbed, Rudo thinks he might have a great sleep tonight