Work Text:
It had been like this for as long as he could remember. No matter how much Chuuya wanted to pretend otherwise, every single one of his thoughts revolved around food. Maybe it was because of those days before the sheep found him, of the days spent on an empty stomach. He could only guess, as he didn’t really understand what lead to this.
This being him standing in the middle of his apartment, trying to convince himself eating now wouldn’t be worth it. He had just gotten home after work, it wasn’t even 9 yet. Almost all his meals had 24 hours in between, and even more if it was possible. But today, Kouyou insisted that they have a meal today, during lunch. Chuuya had his suspicions about her knowing about his “situation”.
Lunch meant he couldn’t eat now. He can’t do that to himself. Especially after realizing he gained weight. It didn’t make sense honestly, none of it did. How could he have gained when he never went above 500 calories a day? How was that possible? It didn’t matter cause at the end of it, he had gained weight.
He slowly moved towards a couch, he needed to stay away from the kitchen. There was food in the fridge. Food that he was more than hungry enough to eat. The thought made him nauseous. While he had been feeling this way for so long, it had gotten especially bad in the last year. Mafia work was so much heavier now, he was drowning in paperwork. Because of that, he found it was a good excuse to skip meals.
The more he skipped meals, the more he started to pay attention to everything. Calories, his wrists, his thighs, and the numbers on the scale. He knew he was thin for his age, but it wasn’t thin enough. Sometimes, when his mind would try to convince him he look obese he would almost believe it. Food was always on his mind. It kept him from doing daily things. It was taking over his life. And even though he was aware of that, he couldn’t stop it. He didn’t want to. Stopping it meant gaining weight, it meant getting fat and most importantly it meant losing control. He was already disgusting, to himself if not to anyone else.
Nothing had meaning if it wasn’t related to losing weight. That was the thought that finally got him up from the couch. His steps were hesitant as he slowly approached the kitchen. He was just gonna have one bite. That was all. One bite. He opened the fridge to see the leftovers. After taking a slice of cake he brought it to the counter.
Just one bite.
Just one.
Or two
Or three
…
He shoved the entire thing in his mouth. His heart burned. Turning around he took everything else out of the fridge and started to eat. That was all he did. Eat, eat, eat. He knew what was happening, but it was impossible to stop.
✧
It didn’t stop. The kitchen was compeletly empty by the time he was done. Tears were streaming down his face, I didn’t mean to, he wanted to say, to scream. But it didn’t mean anything now. It was too late. He was far too used to this routine. Especially to what came after eating. He had to get up and-
The bell was ringing. Why was the bell ringing now?
He let out a groan before dragging himself up to check the door. Seriously, who the hell is at his door at this hour?
When he looked through the hole, his eyes landed on the one person he wished to not see right now.
Dazai.
But he never rings the bell. Why is he doing it now?
Chuuya genuinely didn’t have the strenght to deal with this now. He probably looked awful too, he could feel his eyes getting puffy from crying.
He decided to leave the mackerel outside, hoping he wouldn’t break in. Well, even if he did Chuuya just needed to get something done then he’d be fine.
He walked to the bathroom as fast as he could before dropping to his knees before the toilet seat. He felt incredibly stupid for being scared every time. He was in the mafia for god’s sake, throwing up was nothing. So he took a deep breath before shoving his fingers down his throat. No matter how many times he did this, it felt equally hard every time. After gagging for a few seconds, he threw up.
And again.
And again.
Before he was interrupted by the door opening.
Fuck. Dazai was standing with his mouth tightly shut. He looked like he wasn’t sure what to say, he probably wasn’t. Chuuya pushed himself back from the toilet, his breathing was ragged from how much he threw up. He spoke, but it lacked the usual bite,
“What do you think you’re looking at.” Dazai only shrugged,
“I don’t know, what are you doing?” He knew damn well what Chuuya was doing and that was infuriating.
“Just fuck off Dazai im not in the mood,” But Dazai, in fact, did not fuck off. Instead he came closer and kneeled by Chuuya. His lips displayed a smile but there wasn’t any depth to it.
“I came to take care of my dog,” He reached for tissues and started wiping Chuuya’s hand and lips. Neither of them said anything until he was done. If he noticed the tear stains on Chuuya’s cheeks, he didn’t mention them which Chuuya felt grateful for. This was already enough for one day. Once they were done, Dazai led him to the couch. They layed down in complete silence, only the soft sounds of breathing filling the room. Chuuya hadn’t said a thing since his partner showed up cause nothing he could’ve said would change anything. Dazai probably understood it anyway.
When the morning came, the heavy feeling in his chest was still there, but it helped knowing he wasn’t all by himself anymore.