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Char became too lax and relaxed in attending the Zeon military academy. He assumed no one would recognize him as Deikun's eldest son. He usually wore shades or the occasional contacts. Besides Garma, he never showed his full face to anyone, not the staff, nor during lunch or training. Char's medical note (he did not forge) stated his eyes are extremely sensitive to sunlight, and he must wear protective lenses at all times.
Char is so paranoid that he cooks all of his meals every single day and eats outside or in secluded places. He never went to the cafeteria and kept a strict diet, no matter how bland it was. Food is easier to tamper with than water, which is why he didn't think anything amiss when he drank a cup of water after doing laps from the public cooler everyone shared during training. It's a hassle. He wished he could relax, but he's Casval Rem Deikun. He couldn't trust anyone when everyone is out to kill him. Has tried to kill him and his sister.
Char is lying his head on the toilet seat, panting after his stomach wrung itself out. He groans and shuts his eyes as a wave of slimy nausea against his nerves causes him to shiver and spit to flood in his mouth. The saliva tastes copper, similar to blood, and a mixture of sour rice and bile. Char started to feel unwell right after drinking water. It settled on his stomach like a dead weight, making Char cough and his stomach protest and rumble in queasiness. Char quickly excused himself, the commanding officer accepting his half assed reply, before power walking back to his dorm. Running only made him dizzy, and the water sloshed around in his stomach with his lunch.
Char is swallowing rapidly and convulsively, not wanting to vomit again because he has to be the one to clean the toilet. Char is the little prince of Deikun, yet Garma, his stupid roommate, doesn't know how to do basic chores. Char had to teach Garma everything from scratch as if he were a small child, rather than a grown man in the military. The spit clings to his throat, and Char closes his eyes and breathes.
"Char, you look like shit." Of course, Garma found him in this state. Char blinks and sees Garma in the doorway, staring down at him with a frown on his face, twisting his purple hair. Did his roommate come here to laugh at him? To mock him? He didn't know.
Char attempts to laugh. The small action causes a cramp in his stomach and makes him gag. His stomach contracts, and he can feel the liquid rise from his throat. Char braces himself and turns his head into the toilet. It's pointless to fight it, and he shuts his eyes as it forces itself out of his mouth. A burp is muffled by sick, mostly tan colored bile, water, and what's pitifully left over from his lunch. Some of it comes out of his nose by the force of it all, and tears prick the corner of his eyes.
"Dammit, Char," Garma hisses. Char coughs, and another wet, nauseous hiccup forces out of his throat. More vomit sprays out to splash against the toilet bowl, joining the sick already in there, some of it rebounding against the porcelain to splash on his blond hair and cheeks.
Char groans, his hand shakily rubbing his stomach. He almost jolts when Garma rubs his back. Cadets vomiting is nothing new at the academy. It happens when someone is forced to do push-ups or laps for acting stupid, but Char didn't want to expose himself. Showing vulnerability, weakness-
Char's throat contracts at the thought of depending on a man he's going to kill later. He missed his mother, who used to rub his back when he became ill. Char missed Artesia. He even misses his foster parents. He sniffs, almost heaving at the back-end taste of regurgitated half-digested beans and vegetables.
"Someone... tried to poison me," Char manages to get out, trying to catch his breath. His throat is sore and raw like sandpaper.
"I'll get a doctor," Garma said. "Are you sure it wasn't the beans not agreeing with you? You made vegetarian fried rice, so that it could have been those or another vegetable in it."
Char shook his head, his vision starting to black out. He focused, not wanting to pass out in the bathroom of all places, with puke in the toilet water. He's embarrassed enough that Garma is here, seeing him look like a hot mess with vomit on his mouth, pale, and his blue eyes glazey and out of focus.
"I'm getting help whether you like it or not." Garma turned up his nose, not from the smell but pure arrogance. "You're my friend, Char, even if you piss me off by complaining about the dishes."
Char wanted to protest, but he's too tired. His nose burns, and he feels disgusting. He wants to take a shower and sleep for a while, but his stomach is still tender and in pain. He doesn't even have the energy to flush the toilet.
'A friend.' Char thought deliriously. He never had a friend before, aside from his sister and the dog from his foster parents. 'Maybe I can spare Garma.' Garma didn't know what happened to Deikun, Char's father. He's not responsible. Right?
Right. It's Zabi's fault. Not Garma. But Garma is-
Char is starting to doubt his plan. He wished he had never joined Zeon, but rather the Federation instead. He is starting to regret not going to the enemy from the start to plan out his revenge. Char closed his eyes and rested, listening to Garma's hurried footsteps as he went to get someone, resting and summoning up enough energy to flush his mess away and at least wash his hands.
Char is going to kill whoever poisoned him.
It's revealed that no, Char didn't get poisoned by someone. Rather, it's food poisoning because the vegetables in the fried rice were not properly cleaned. Char learned the basics of cooking from his foster mother, Mrs. Mass, but not everything.
Char wanted to glare at Garma's smug face as he lay in the bed with a bucket by his side.