Gripping their damp rags filled with holes and grim, they carefully wiped down the smooth, glassy walls, whether they needed it or not. Cautious not to leave streaks or smudges, their movements were slow and precise. It seemed far more likely that using the filthy rags would do more harm than good.Gaunt and weak from hunger, they limped along as their empty bellies growled. When passing each other through a hall or random room, they never smiled, or even made eye contact. This had nothing to do with any set rules, just a belief that such behavior was probably frowned upon. There was no way to predict how Zhou or Morita would react on any given day, so they did their best not give them any excuses to dish out punishment—not that a true reason was ever really needed.With their thin, frail bodies weak from starvation, it was not uncommon for one of the servants to collapse in a hallway. There they would stay, sometimes for hours on end. No one dared help them or bring so much as a spoonful of water.
