Author's Note: I felt that i had to write this. This was stuck in my head long enough..
Warning: this is not a mpreg.
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One Twenty Three.
One hundred and twenty three.
He stopped himself from repeating it further.
He couldn't comprehend it.
Brown eyes stared unblinkingly at the scale. This wasn't normal, this was disgusting. His uniform felt tight around his stomach, restricting his movements; it was as if the fabric had become a second skin. He could feel it clinging to his body with every movement he made. He could feel everything.
This was so wrong.
He felt eyes all the time on him, staring him down, recording every move he made. Those merciless people… they'd whisper things to him- cruel, nasty, hateful words that dug into his brain. The whispers would only increase with every wrong move he made. But when he didn't eat, they stopped. The stopped torturing him, they stopped burning his mouth, but ONLY when he didn't eat.
And the boy was happy with that. He would forcehimself to last without food until his body absolutely begged for the nutrients, he just had to.
And to make matters worse now, he was pretty sure that those in the Host Club had started to notice his weight. No, he was positive. He saw disgusted looks they gave him when they thought he wouldn't see. He was fat. He was ugly. He knew it.
His fat fingers grabbed frantically at his hair as he sway on the spot, attempting to use the pain to drown out all the voices rushing into his mind. He was desperate to rip out ALL his insanity. To rip out ALL his fat.
He just wanted to die. He felt as though the floor would collapse under him because he was so fat.
Kyoya once again looked into the full-length mirror next to his hidden scale. A size small shirt hung loosely off of his frail torso. His fingers desperately scrambled for purchase on to his stomach- or what usedto be a stomach. His bony fingers anxiously tore through his shirt, buttons flying everywhere as he compulsively checked himself in the mirror. But the boy didn't care, he hadn't cared in a while and wouldn't start now.
His rib cage was very prominent, all 12 ribs on each side clearly countable. His sunken cheek bones cast shadows on his face as Kyoya turned it back and forth, admiring himself. He eyes held a thousand-mile stare, dark circles accentuating them even further.
The boy who stared back at him was beautiful beyond words. He was finally perfect.
After he had hit 110 and started losing his hair, his friends and family had gotten very worried. As more time progressed, he had only gotten worse; at this point, there was no denying it.
The boy was anorexic.
Kyoya only weighed 98 pounds, and he was perfect.
SO it was sucky. I know but I just wanted to upload this because I felt as though I had to get the idea out there.
Review and I will love you bunches.