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"There comes a point when your will is exhausted, you tried everything to make something work, and it won't work" - Alan Watts
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When people would describe Tsukishima Kei the words 'cold and quiet' came to mind. Cold, quiet, mean, reserved. Where have you been? Is there something wrong with you? You've been distant. I'm worried about you. You need to get exercise. You should eat something. Wow, are you sure you're going to eat all that?
Just relax.
He can't just relax. He can never relax. He tried to. Of course he tried. He'd been to therapists, talked about himself, kept things to himself, talked to his friends but all of it only brought worry and never fixed anything. He was tired of hunger. Tired of himself. Tired because he could never fall asleep but could never wake up on time. He was tired of hating himself. Deep-seated hate that made rage pass through every bone in his body and hate that boiled his blood and made him want to scream at even the slightest inconvenience.
He was tired. He was mentally exhausted but forced to go on.
Apparently, he's been distant. He didn't think he was being distant. But after a text from Yamaguchi saying he's worried because over the past 3 months he'd been 'cold and reserved' he was confused and hated it. He didn't think he was acting different from how he usually did- but apparently, he'd been acting so different it warranted worry. Tadashi wasn't the only one that was worried either. Kuroo kept saying he could talk to him if he needed to. Between jokes and sharing posts, even Bokuto made the offer. A few months ago Akaashi had been the first to express his concern, reminding him to take care of himself.
He did take care of himself, right? Sure his sleep schedule was erratic, he had medication for it but he rarely took it, he only ate when prompted and on days he slept too late he woke up on the brink of tears as his anxiety took over. But he wasn't depressed. Which meant he must be taking care of himself.
And after all, what right did Tadashi- hell, any of them have to accuse him of getting worse over something as trivial as how much he talked to them?
He had always struggled with his weight. He remembered a 7-year-old version of himself thinking he hated how his stomach looked, a 9-year-old version of himself didn't like his thighs. He remembered a 13-year-old version of himself in near tears when he told his mother he tried to make himself throw up because he hated his body so much- it didn't mean she did anything about it though.
Keeping this to himself was better. No making his friends worry, no disappointment from his parents, wishing for a second they'd care and think that maybe something was wrong behind his aloofness. But he cursed himself, didn't he? If he was asked if he was okay he'd say yes, why wouldn't he be? His parents said he could always talk to them- and while he knew that was a lie to some degree- he never used that offer. He'd grown used to his problems and stopped realizing they were bad.
Normal people don't track calories. Normal people don't stomach 1-2 meals a day- barely 1-2 meals at that. If normal people get hungry or lightheaded or have headaches they don't praise themselves because this is progress they eat and they drink until they feel better. By no means was Kei ever overweight, he'd always been healthy and there were times he was closer to being underweight than over, but the word cursed him.
Healthy.
Healthy. Healthy. Healthy. Healthy.
You're healthy why would you want to do that to yourself? You're a perfect weight for your height and age. You're healthy. You're a healthy weight you don't need to change it.
Over the years he started to hate that word. Hate his doctors for saying it, his parents for looking at how much he ate and saying 'oh that's the 'healthy' amount' and hating his friends for saying it when he chose to talk about what was happening.
He didn't want to be healthy.
He wanted to be thin, small, tiny, something to look at, worth something. He wanted to get people commenting on his physique and finally be able to scratch the itching thought in the back of his mind that said 'wow I actually did it'.
But why was he like this? Did the small comments just build up over the years? No- he'd been hating his weight since he was small, was he supposed to be like this? Would he always be like this? Was there any point in trying to be okay? He couldn't do this anymore. He was already at his limit now- how was he supposed to manage when he's 20? 30? 40? Would it follow him his entire life? His lack of interest, lack of appetite, disgust with his body, obsessions over small things, aloofness?
Why was this how he was supposed to be?
Kuroo was coming over today. Kei wanted to be alone. But it wasn't like him to cancel plans, just unenthusiastically go along with them. But today had been a bad day for him. He woke up late making him feel guilty for wasting time, he had coffee which was okay but his parents handed him a plate of breakfast he felt too guilty to throw away. He ate it and felt sick and since he ate his metabolism started and he ended up eating again because his body was so starved of energy it urged him to eat as much as it could before it started to shut down again.
Kuroo was coming over at 5 to stay the night. He was surprised his parents let his boyfriend stay over. But with Kuroo being older than him his parents both figured that the bed-headed boy was mature enough to be safe if they chose to do anything and they both figured it was too early for Tsuki to want to do anything. Kuroo was coming over at 5 so he had time. He readied himself for being expected to eat dinner- could he say he wasn't hungry? He had eaten a lot today? No- Kuroo wouldn't believe that and if he did he'd congratulate him and say 'what would another meal hurt?'.
So, he threw up. He had to get rid of what he ate. Throwing up always left him with more guilt-sickness than the actual act of doing it. But he had to do it. He was disgusting. He chugged some water and threw it up too. He took 3 laxatives so the next day he could get rid of whatever he'd digested as fast as he could and he weighted himself.
He didn't hear Kuroo come in. His soft tears and retching must have made him deaf to the sound of the door. But he felt a hand on his back. Kuroo sitting next to him with a mournful yet hopeful look on his face- rubbing his back and wiping the sweat from his forehead once Kei looked at him,
"Stomach bug?" Hope. Kei shook his head. He'd never been good at lying to Kuroo,
"No,"
"What happened, Tsukki?" The question wasn't about throwing up, Kuroo wasn't asking why he was throwing up. He was asking how Kei had gotten to the point of throwing up without anyone knowing. A stifled tearful chuckle came from Tsukishima, it sounded pathetic as small tears dripped down his cheeks,
"I guess somewhere along the way I forgot to pick myself up again..."
It was the most honest he'd ever been about his health. But it was one of the only real things he'd ever said about it. Kuroo nodded. The thing about Kei was that you couldn't care too much. Truthfully- as cheesy as it may sound not many had honestly cared about him. They'd panic and try to do something not realizing that he didn't need them to freak out and cause a scene, he just needed someone. Someone to listen to what he needed and not what they thought was best. And Kuroo was that someone. He nodded. And dipped his head so it rested against Kei's shoulder for a moment before standing up. He flushed the toilet and wiped his mouth, getting a glass of water for Tsuki who hesitantly drank it.
He left the bathroom to get something. Kei only hearing rustling from his bedroom, Kuroo came back with arms full of blankets and pillows, his computer wedged in his elbow. He put the computer on the closed toilet seat and made a type of make-shift blanket nest with the pillows, just big enough so they could both sit comfortably, leaning against the wall.
Kuroo was the more affectionate one, he always had been and likely always would be. They watched a movie, and another and another until it was dark. Not saying anything. Tsukki appreciated it. By the time the fourth movie ended, and it was around 4 am, they were nestled into each other, Kei uncharacteristically leaning against Kuroo, his head on his chest and Kuroo rubbing his hand.
Kuroo looked down on him. A bitter-sweet feeling in his chest.
"You're beautiful, you know that?"
"You've told me," Tsukki sighed,
"Do you believe me?" A moment passed,
"Not always..."
"Sometimes?"
"Sometimes... when I don't hate myself that much, I think you might not be lying to me," The words stung Kuroo, but he knew it wasn't personal. Tsukishima Kei didn't believe him not because he thought ill of Kuroo in any way but because he never saw those qualities in himself. Beauty, elegance, kindness. He saw himself as ugly, ungrateful and mean. Kuroo didn't comment on it anymore because it was a battle they'd face later, in a few years, maybe later, when Kei finally saw himself in a much different light. This would take time and Kuroo knew that. Tsukki might struggle his entire life, he'll have ups and downs because there's no quick fix to things like this. There likely never will be, and he's okay with that,
"I know I can't force you to do anything... but don't stop this..."
"This?"
"Talking to me, with words that you mean..." He mumbled, brushing the boy's hair, "I know you don't like talking about your feelings, I won't ever force you... But when you do want to talk about them, please talk to me," Tsukki nodded,
"Okay,"
That was enough right now. A one-word response, no promises and very few expectations. It was all he could do right now. Kuroo felt the stress in his chest alleviate slightly. It wasn't much. He knew it would take a while and neither of them would be ready for the changes that came with it. He wouldn't try to pressure Kei or force him to do anything because it was something he had to realize on his own, and this was a start.
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