Chapter Text
Toya was once again on the verge of a meltdown. Another fight with his Dad at the dinner table, another night where he abandoned his food and went to his room. Now, he's angry, hungry, and sad.
Toya laid in his bed, clutching his giant Pochacco plush and sobbing. He tried to think of all the things in life that made him happy. Singing and performing with Akito and the others, that's a good one... That's what he and Dad were fighting about. Nevermind. Even more upset. There's Akito, his wonderful boyfriend. The person that keeps him going... No. His Dad was yelling at him about his relationship, too. Okay, no people.
Toya took out his phone. It's time to doomscroll. His thumb swiped the screen, his other arm still holding the plushie against him. he came across one of those soap cutting videos. Those were always nice to see. After it loops for a bit, he smiles and decides to jump down the rabbit hole (epic deco*27 reference).
Soap cutting, clay cracking, slime, etc. This, Toya thought, was bliss. Pure neurodivergent bliss. For the rest of the night, he scrolls and scrolls, taking in the colors, textures, and sounds presented to him. His head starts dipping, his eyes growing heavy.
He rubs away a tear produced by a yawn, and gets off of his bed, starting to strip. Toya often prefers sleeping naked to reduce his sensory intake at night. If he feels too much fabric rubbing against his skin, catching beneath his weight, where he can't adjust it, limiting his movement... He shivers at the thought. None of that. (Wow guys he's so me it's like I'm projecting or something)
As he does every other night, he places that day's clothes in the laundry basket in his room, walking to the light and switching it off. He climbs under the covers and grabs Pochacco, pulling him under the covers, too. He wouldn't want him to be cold, would he? Toya wraps his arms around the large plushie, resting his head in a little crook between the head and shoulder of the doll. He knows Pochacco doesn't mind it. If everyone else in the world were to turn on him, he knew Pochacco wouldn't.
Of course, he knows the doll isn't alive. It would be silly if he actually thought that, wouldn't he? No, he's fully aware of the nonsentience of the stuffed animal. But it's still fun to imagine.