Chapter Text
Akechi doesn’t like what he sees. Not even a little bit.
His hands trembled as the reflection in the mirror displayed such a disgraceful image of himself. The puffier cheeks, the way his belly would stand out a little too much when he looked sideways and how he wasn’t able to feel his collarbones clearly like he did before; it was more than enough to make him mad — upset, even.
It’s not like it was his fault; he was a celebrity, after all. He had to keep a clean and grateful image for all his fans, stupid adults and journalists who keeps following him around, and that means he had to accept everything he’s offered in Live — meaning that he needs to accept all kinds of food, from a healthy fruit salad to chocolates and desserts full of calories. At first, he didn’t even noticed. Balancing school with multiple interviews and his desire to take down the Phantom Thieves eventually made him tired, and Akechi would normally just take a quick shower and crash out in his sofa. He had the perfect mask, anyway.
However, a comment on his Instagram changed it all.
It started with a small “is it just me, or Akechi got a little chubbier recently?” that he was too fed up to bother with. Untill it just kept getting worse — loads of “Yeah, I swear you could see his ribs before!” and “he used to be prettier than what he is now” was his breaking point. Did he really gain that much weight in such small time? His mind couldn’t figure it out, and it was driving him insane.
Biting his lips in a mix of fear and anger, he walked slowly and desregulated to his room and opened his wardrobe in order to reach his scale, the one he would use frequently before things got busier. Akechi’s body felt heavy, a weird fear taking over his mind, ready to break him down. Putting the small scale on the floor, he took a deep breath and steadily stepped on it.
70 kg. All the way up from 63 kg.
He felt disgusting — it almost felt like a joke, a very unfunny one. Of course, it was still healthy for his height; but it didn’t matter much for him.
Immediately stepping off the scale, Akechi mind starts to spiral over eveything he did the past months, the ones he was too busy to even care about anything. It felt stupid, laughable, and everything he could think of. In the back of his mind, he thought he was in control, that he would manage to keep his weight even he wasn’t doing anything in particular to stop it. How could his body betray him like that?
Shame. Anger. He was never the kind of person who desired to be thin, to the point he would go unnoticed on the crowd — so why was he feeling such a high amout of guilt from gaining some weight? It felt ironic, and even laughable; like he was some kind of clown, in display for everyone to laugh at his miserable figure.
Taken over by frustration and shame, he throws himself on his messy bed, craving his nails inside the skin of his wrist, which felt chubbier than the last time he did the same thing to forget about his mind. His eyes felt damp, a dampness he didn’t feel before — when did he start crying, and why was it over something stupid like that?
Overwhelmed, Akechi took both of his hands to his face and hid his eyes, even if no one was seeing him cry — He could, and it felt pathetic.
After a wile, his cries of disappointment finally ceased, and the young boy was only left with his own failure and sorrow, like a stupid child left behind.
His stomach growled — a feeling that would go unnoticed a few minutes ago, while he was still throwing a tantrum over his own mess. Of all times, why now?
Maybe he was just hungry, and eating would make him feel better.
With guilt, he slapped himself in an attempt to make this stupid thought get out of his mind. Such a nonsense to cry about his own body and immediately think about food a few seconds after made him feel way more filthier, way more guilty.
Getting up from the misfortune that was his bedroom, Akechi went to his bathroom in a few steps, wishing to see the tragedy of his face.
His eyes were swollen and his face still felt stupidly damp, almost judging him. Without really thinking, he grabbed his toothbrush and his toothpaste; something in his mind telling that brushing his teeth would somehow make the hunger go away.
It was okay. If he stopped eating for long enough, it would be fine. He just needed to get back in control, and he would be the perfect detective prince again.
It was okay, right?