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Togami rolls over in bed, unable to sleep despite his overwhelming fatigue. He has no idea how long he has been trapped in this hellhole, but Togami is certain he has not slept more than three hours a night since his arrival at Hope’s Peak. Even though the exhaustion makes his eyes burn behind his glasses, his neck ache from constantly suppressing yawns, and his brain throb with a headache that will not cease no matter how many painkillers he swallows. So it makes no sense that he cannot sleep, given that he is so exhausted he would probably fall asleep sitting up reading or eating (if the threat of punishment for sleeping outside a dorm didn’t keep him awake) the moment his eyes close. But whenever he is in bed, Togami just finds himself wide awake.
Such as tonight. Night time curfew only began an hour ago, but he is certain the other students are all asleep by now. But he is cursed to lay awake in the darkness. Well, unless he gets up. He never really agreed to their little night time rule anyway, so who cares?
So a bored, exhausted and yet awake Togami hauls himself out of bed, puts on his glasses, and leaves his room. He wanders through the dormitory, passing the doors behind which his surviving classmates are sleeping, pointedly ignoring each security camera he passes. When Togami realises he has no idea where he is going, he yawns and tries to think. And when the idea comes to him, his heart rate increases, but he picks up his pace.
Soon, he has entered the warehouse, a room he has visited only a few times – and most of those few times were remarkably similar to this one. Once certain no one else is here, Togami searches through the selection of food, picking out packets of candy, high calorie snack foods and sugar-loaded sweetbreads, only stopping when the duffle bag he grabs is crammed full. He pauses for a second to steady his heartbeat, and then saunters out of the warehouse.
Making certain none of the others (including that damn bear) are around, Togami slips into the boys’ bathroom. The place is empty (and free of security cameras), but he is still cautious as he locks himself into the stall the farthest from the door. And then…
None of the others would believe it if they saw this, Togami is certain. After all, who would expect a snob like him to sit on the probably dirty bathroom floor mere inches from a toilet, and start unwrapping food? Yet he does, and he does not care what others might think – because they don’t, and will never, know about this.
Togami exhales slowly, and places an unwrapped chocolate in his mouth. He bites down and the chocolate bursts, revealing sickly sweat caramel inside, but he simply chews and swallows the chocolate. Soon, the next five have been eaten this way. And then the next ten. The inside of his mouth coated in thick chocolate, Togami starts to feel sick. But he doesn’t stop, this time unwrapping the final five and cramming them all into his mouth at once.
And now all sense of calmness has vanished. Togami’s hands fumble as he opens packets, spilling food on the floor and getting his hands sticky, but he does not care. All manner of candy and junk food is shoved into his mouth, chewing until his jaw aches, his stomach straining with food, sweetbreads, chocolates, potato snacks; it doesn’t matter what it is, for they are all crammed into his mouth with no dignity and swallowed despite not being hungry.
But of course he isn’t hungry. He is never hungry when he does this. This is about control.
When every packet is empty, Togami takes in shallow breaths, so nauseated and full it actually hurts to breathe. His lips are coated with chocolate, his fingers slicked with grease, and all he can smell see taste feel is food.
There it is: the need for control. He knew it would be here soon. He has binged, and now the shame attacks him, because he is disgusting and how dare he eat so much and you can’t be the heir to the Togami fortune if you cannot control yourself and he is weak weak weak without the constant reminders from his brain to be the strong Ultimate Heir everyone keeps calling him.
He was already feeling sick from his overfull stomach, but the shame adds a whole new level to it. Togami’s mouth fills with saliva and he bites back a groan as his stomach literally churns. He shuffles closer to the toilet and leans over it, heart drumming in his ears. And Togami takes a deep breath before jamming his finger down his throat.
He retches, stomach rolling, and stomach acid burns his oesophagus. Thankfully, Togami is already so nauseated that this is all he needs to be sick. He heaves again, hangs his head over the toilet bowl, and brings up everything he just forced down his throat. His heaves are loud, but he would know if someone else was in here, and right now he doesn’t care anyway. All he can think about is the nausea and the burning sensation in his throat and the way his eyes water as vomit splatters into the toilet water.
It seems to take forever, but the vomiting finally stops. Togami breathes slowly, stomach hurting and throat hurting and mouth hurting and trembling with adrenaline and anxiety and exertion from making himself throw up. But a large part of him is happy; happy that he showed control, that he punished himself for binging and brought the food back up.
But the rest of him wants to weep (and a tiny part of him wonders why he has to do this to himself at all).
Togami is on autopilot after that, barely remembering cleaning himself up and throwing the wrappers away and trailing back to his bedroom. He falls into bed and doesn’t sleep, but he doesn’t have the energy to care anymore.