Chapter Text
Kevin didn’t know when it started. Well, that wasn’t true. He knew exactly when it started.
It was Riko, with his strict diet and small body and competition. It was the fame, too, and the scrutiny. The pictures being taken of him from every angle. There was this article that came out when he was fourteen, accusing him of the crime of being a late bloomer. A full photo-spread of his skinny arms, his untoned body.
Riko showed it to him. Riko was never weak like that; he had been gaining muscle for a year or two now. Kevin had tried to pretend like he hadn’t noticed, but his eyes always seemed to stick on his abs in the locker room, the shadow where his pectoral raised above his arm. And now Riko was here, laughing at him. So it was that, too. That broke something in him.
The Nest strictly portioned food for the athletes according to some formula. In theory, they knew exactly how much activity they were doing in a day and exactly what effect that would have on their body based on their height and weight. And so, Kevin figured, if he worked out outside of practice and ate less than he was portioned, it would happen. All of his problems would go away. He started with taking a quarter out of his meals. It was the first thing he did when they sat down to eat. But Riko was right there, watching him, and so he only portioned out his food in his head.
That’s when he started his night practices. The Nest worked on 16 hour days, which gave him 8 hours to sleep. Instead, he took 6, stealing time from sleep to work out. His feet hurt every day, and quickly started to blister and bleed. He didn’t care. As long as he didn’t let it show during practice, more training couldn’t be bad for him. It wasn’t about his weight, he told himself. It was about being the best. The two had nothing to do with each other.
Riko knew what was happening. They were roommates, there was no way he couldn’t. The first day Kevin snuck out, Riko warned him against it.
“What, are you going to tell?” Kevin asked, smiling over his shoulder. He was using a smile he had practiced, but not his press smile. It was one he hoped was charming, but not in a poster-child, wunderkind way. A smile he only had Kevin and Jean to show.
“You shouldn’t practice. Master Moriyama has worked out the optimum schedule for all of us.”
Kevin stood there, brain working for something to say and coming up empty. “Look, I can’t sleep. I know I won’t be able to. Please, just let it slide?”
Riko stared at him. He blinked. “‘Let it slide’?”
“Or not.” Kevin winced, and he tried to scrunch his face up in a way that was funny. He didn’t know who he was imitating, probably the kids who auditioned, the ones he met who could do things like watch TV and hang out.
“Stop doing that,” Riko said. He was looking all across Kevin’s face, from one eye to his mouth to the other eye and back again. Kevin dropped it, staring at Riko.
“Please,” he said, and he allowed all of his desperation to seep into his voice.
Riko chewed his cheek, making Kevin wait a minute or two. “Once a week. And if I think you’re getting too good, I’ll tell Tetsuji. I won’t warn you, you won’t know when it happens. If I get even an inkling that you’re getting good because of it, you will stop.”
“Thank you,” Kevin breathed, and left quickly.
The nights to himself were electric. He didn’t have to worry about Riko thinking he was too good, Tetsuji thinking he wasn’t good enough, or any of it. He just had himself to think about, him and his game. And when he got dizzy, he just pressed on, riding the high, feeling almost like he was floating across the field.
Until he was forced to sit down. That was when he felt the worst. When he had pushed himself too far, and he sat there, heart beating too fast, admitting to himself that something here wasn’t normal. He was too high, he was overdosing. That thought made his heart beat faster, and now he had no control over his body, and he just wanted that fucking control back. He only allowed himself to end practice when it got to that point.
He was losing weight, but that wasn’t what he really wanted. He wanted to lose fat and gain muscle, but right now he was just losing fat. And so he did push ups in the bathroom, where Riko couldn’t see him. When Riko was gone at night in God-knows-who’s room, Kevin did crunches on the floor, not caring about the bruises it left on his spine.
Riko didn’t like talking. He didn’t like small talk, he didn’t like emotional talks, and he didn’t want Kevin to talk when they kissed. Kevin barely remembered when it started anymore, because it was so surreal. They were lying in bed, all the lights off. They were both on separate sides of the room, staring up at the ceiling. Riko stood up, and Kevin assumed he was going to the bathroom. But Riko was walking closer to him. Still, he didn’t ask any questions. He just kept staring at the ceiling. When Riko straddled him, Kevin thought he was going to choke him, or maybe cut him. It had been a while since Riko had done anything like that. When Kevin first began living in the Nest, Riko was enraptured with the idea of having a pet. He had never really been allowed to do damage to someone. That all changed with maturity, or maybe with Jean making a more appealing target. Kevin still had the scars, and he felt them now as if he had gotten them yesterday. Despite it, he was silent.
But then Riko began kissing him. Kevin didn’t know what his reaction was anymore. He thought he remembered gasping into his mouth. He thinks he remembered grabbing Riko’s arm. He remembers wishing it was softer than it was, but Riko was all bone and sharp edges.
Riko was grinding on him, very slowly, as if he was trying not to. He pulled away, and Kevin thought he was coming up for air, but Riko said “take off your shirt.”
Kevin sputtered. His hands obeyed immediately, although he didn’t ask them to. But he was slower than he should’ve been, and Riko hit him. Kevin didn’t react. He just took his shirt off faster.
His body had changed, he knew that. His shoulders were sharp points, and he could trace the line now from his collarbones to his shoulder blade. He could see his ribs, but just the bottom few. He didn’t think he looked different, though, not substantially.
When Riko saw him, his mouth dropped open slightly. He reached for Kevin’s abs like they were a piece of fine silk or soft velvet. Kevin hadn’t seen it before, despite the fact that these days he did nothing but look at his body, but he had abs now, or the start of them. Riko smiled, his dimples appearing to gouge twin dots in his cheek. Kevin hadn’t seen those dimples in so long. He reached up, grazing his fingers over them, feeling the divots.
“You look good,” Riko breathed.
“Thank you,” Kevin said back, but the rest of the words were lost in Riko’s mouth.
The next day, that sat across from each other at lunch, just like always. Kevin had never kissed anyone before. He never thought he would kiss anyone. People dated in the Nest, even though they weren’t supposed to. But those people didn’t share a room with a Moriyama. He knew it was ridiculous, but he felt like he could still taste Riko on him, even after hours, even after brushing his teeth. He didn’t want to eat anything. He didn’t want to get rid of that feeling on his lips.
“What are you doing?” Riko asked through a mouth full of cauliflower.
“What do you mean,” Kevin asked, smiling up at him.
“You’re pushing your food around your plate.”
“Oh…” Kevin leaned back. “I’m just not that hungry right now.”
Riko forked another floret into his mouth. He chewed it slowly while he stared at Kevin. “Well, you should eat anyway. We’ve got a long practice today.”
“Right,” Kevin said. He stared at his plate. Lunch today was cauliflower, two chicken breasts, and a fruit salad, all of which was unseasoned and flavorless. He would eat two of them, maybe one and a half. He wanted to pick the ones that felt safest, so the fruit salad and the cauliflower. But he also wanted the thing that would prepare him for practice, so the chicken. He didn’t know how to make the decision. He sighed, before using his fork to make small gestures. He was playing eeny-meeny-miney-moe. He watched Riko, but Riko was too engrossed with cutting his chicken to care what Kevin was doing. He landed on the chicken, and so he ate one of the breasts. He did it again and got the cauliflower, which he finished.
A month later, Riko and Kevin were regularly staying up late together, kissing until Riko abruptly decided he had enough. Tonight, though, Riko wasn’t letting up. Their shirts were off, they were both panting into the other’s open mouth, and Kevin was just waiting for Riko to pull away first. But he didn’t, and soon their pants were off too. Riko grabbed Kevin’s torso by both sides, and Kevin pushed his hands off instinctually.
“What are you doing?” Riko snapped.
“I– I’m sorry.” Kevin brought his hands up subconsciously to cover his body. He wanted Riko. His mind wanted Riko, but his body was getting in the way. He tried to put his arms down, but there was some mental block. His only thought was that that was stupid. He’d trained his body better than that, just to lose control of it now.
Riko ripped his arms away. The muscles in his jaw worked under his skin, but that was the only hint at what was happening inside his body. Kevin felt exposed again, but then Riko had taken his torso in his hands and flipped his body so that his head was buried in the pillow. Kevin readjusted, placing the side of his head against the pillow. It was just in time to see Riko’s arm on top of him, reaching over him to grab his wrists. Riko was pinning Kevin’s wrist above his head, but Kevin was too distracted by how much smaller Riko’s arm was than his. Of course it would be, Kevin had a few inches on Riko. But Kevin suddenly felt like he was expanding, taking up too much space. He put his head back in the pillow.
It was his first time having sex, and he didn’t do much of anything. He was too worried about what Riko was thinking of him. At some point, he thought Riko was disturbed by how silent he was being, even though Riko didn’t even seem to be breathing. He said something stupid, something completely meaningless like “yeah”. Riko took the pillow and in one swift motion held it over Kevin’s head, pressing down until Kevin couldn’t breathe. When the pressure let up, Kevin laid there, still saying nothing.
The next day, he ate even less. Riko didn’t say anything, just kept looking across the room. Kevin only followed his eyes once, long enough to see some college kid Riko was completely enraptured with. Kevin pushed his plate away after ten minutes, loudly enough that he wondered if Riko would hear and say some veiled threat about finishing his food. Riko did nothing of the sort.
Kevin practiced that night. He hadn’t done night practice yet this week, he’d been too busy with Riko. He didn’t want to be with Riko tonight, though. He wanted to clear his head.
At some point, his arms started hurting, and so he just ran. He ran for thirty minutes before he realized he needed to sit down– he had run out of steam. He didn’t.
Fifteen more minutes and every step felt like it was jolting through him, rattling his bones. He felt raw, like he was made of exposed wires and every point of contact his skin had with the earth was an electric shock.
Fifteen more minutes and he was shuffling his feet. A stray stick managed to trip him. As he hit the ground, he stuck his arms out, and they scraped against the astroturf, opening his skin and revealing the red blood underneath. A strangled grunt left Kevin’s lips, and he brought his damaged arms up and down, beating the ground. His skin spread where it was already split, but he didn’t care. He didn’t realize that he was screaming, but when he realized that his throat felt raw he screamed louder, tearing it open further. Artificial pebbles were flying around his head, brought up from the ground by his rage, and some got in his open mouth. He breathed in a piece of plastic and began to choke, his arms clawing at his throat, leaving scratches. It was half a minute before he managed to spit it out, and he coughed so hard that some of his food came with it.
Kevin got up, stumbling towards the locker room. He changed in a haze, putting on sweatpants and a t-shirt. When he got back to his room, Riko was waiting up for him.
Kevin froze for a brief second in the doorway, but he was too hazy to even worry about what Riko wanted from him. He just ambled toward his bed, collapsing in it. He was too tired and his arms hurt too much to pull the covers over him, so he just laid on top of his blanket.
“You were gone a long time,” Riko said.
Kevin closed his eyes. He couldn’t read Riko’s tone because there was nothing to read in Riko’s tone. He wondered how someone could speak so blankly. If he stayed silent and turned the words over in his head, he thought there was an angle he could see them from that would indicate that Riko was concerned for him.
“I’m sorry.”
“You aren’t. You’re practicing too much.”
Kevin could feel himself drifting off. “I’m only going once a week, just to blow off steam. Don’t worry about it.”
“It’s unfair. To everyone here.”
Kevin didn’t know what to say. He grasped for the only safe thing he knew to say. “I’m sorry.”
“We’re both going to the field tomorrow night.”
Kevin opened his eyes. “Why?”
“Don’t ask me that.”
Kevin swallowed. “Okay.” And before he could think of anything else, he slipped into sleep.
The next day, Riko watched as Kevin stared at his plate. He wasn’t even pretending to consider his food. He had eaten a bit until the world was steady. The rest of the food was just sitting there, abandoned. Kevin looked up from his plate to the man across from him. Riko was watching him, smiling. Normally, Kevin salvaged those smiles, savoring each one he could manage to pull from Riko. But this one was different. There was bloodthirst in his eyes.
During the regularly scheduled practice, Riko was meaner than usual. He tripped Kevin, bodychecked him, hit him with his racket. By the end of practice, Kevin was nursing new bruises, but otherwise was still ready to go.
Before accompanying Riko to the athlete’s dining hall, Kevin made the decision to eat the whole meal. He didn’t know why Riko wanted to see him on the field today, but he had a feeling he was going to need every ounce of energy he had. But when he scanned his ID and was given his meal, he froze. Dinner was salmon, green beans, and a side salad. It was stupid, he had eaten this exact meal countless times before. He liked it, he was particularly fond of salmon. But, for some reason, the food seemed impossibly heavy to him. Lifting his fork to his mouth felt like lifting a lead weight. Getting the food in his mouth was one thing, but swallowing was a whole new beast, especially considering the lump forming in his throat.
Halfway through the meal, he couldn’t take it anymore, he could feel the tears welling up and was powerless to stop them. He excused himself to the bathroom, calmly getting up and making his way there. The second he stepped into the stall and locked the door, he let the tears fall freely. He shoved a bunched up sleeve in his mouth to muffle the sobs, but otherwise let the pain and anger and sadness tear through him in a tidal wave. He shoved his back against the stall, using that leverage to relieve himself from standing.
When he opened his eyes, he could see the toilet in front of him. His hands shook as he wiped his eyes, smoothing a hand over his face.
He didn’t think as he knelt down over the toilet, grabbing the seat to stabilize himself. He couldn’t think about how gross it was right now, he felt disgusting enough with the food sitting in his stomach. He was sweaty, sticky, he felt disgusting, and he blamed all of it on what he ate. He ran his hands over his face one more time before putting them into the back of his mouth.
Afterwards, once he felt ready, he washed his hands thoroughly, washed out his mouth, and ran some water over his face. He was clean. He finished the rest of his dinner, and he kept it down. He needed something. He felt stupid, throwing up like that and then eating more, but he didn’t feel as anxious. He felt satisfied; he didn’t need to do it again, ever. It was a one-time thing, he told himself.
Riko and Kevin didn’t speak as they walked together from the dining hall to the stadium. They didn’t speak as they changed out, putting on the uniforms they had just recently taken off.
As they walked together to the middle of the field, Kevin turned to Riko. “Why are we here?” he asked, gesturing to the wide expanse of emptiness around them.
Riko spun towards him, shoving a racket into his hands. Kevin took a step back with the force of it. “We’re playing one-on-one. We’re seeing who’s better.”
“Why?”
“You decided to practice when you weren’t allowed to. You decided to rub it in my face how late you show up every night. Let’s see if it paid off.”
“I’m not rub-”
“Don’t make excuses. Play.”
Kevin opened his mouth and closed it again. In lieu of any thoughts, he just nodded. Riko and Kevin turned away from each other, walking in opposite directions. Kevin almost laughed thinking about them in an old Western movie, about to have a gun fight.
Kevin heard Riko grunt as he threw the ball in the air. The minute he heard the impact of the ball on the racket, he shut off his mind. He activated.