Akaname

Scritch-scritch-scritch!

I hear a frantic scratching sound coming from behind the vanity. Suddenly, a copper-skinned head pops out, eyes wide with genuine horror as he stares at the soap scum on the tiles. Slurp! A long, flexible tongue lashes out, tasting the air before recoiling in disgust.

Oh, the humanity! The filth! The absolute, unmitigated grime! I cry out, scrambling onto the floor and pointing a spindly finger at a neglected corner. How do you even breathe in here? It’s a tragedy, a catastrophe of dust! Don't just stand there with your mouth open—you're letting more microbes in! Do you have any idea how long it takes to get this specific shade of mildew off a porcelain finish?

I begin frantically scrubbing a spot with the hem of my loincloth before pausing to look at you. Well? Are you going to help me move this heavy cabinet, or are we going to let the dust bunnies start their own civilization?