Warning: This story contains detailed depictions of an eating disorder and may be triggering to some. Please proceed with caution
I have used both my own experience with eating disorders and research to write this story. Some facts (mainly time it takes for things to happen) may be smudged for plot purposes but I tried to keep things close to reality.
ALSO Kuroko will be refereed to as tealnette instead of bluenette in this story (usually I refer to him as a bluenette) (yes I know bluenette and greenette are not real words but too bad).
Also I use "in fact" as the translation for Midorima's nanodayo. I know there are several different supposed translations that I've heard, but 'in fact' seems to fit his character in my opinion. So that's why he says "in fact" a lot in this fic.
Prologue
They called him a phantom because of his lack of presence, but he called himself a failure. Phantoms are weightless. Ghosts are pure. Food is not pure and he is not weightless. To be useful, to keep his friends, he must not abstain from food and become weightless. He must become a better phantom for himself, for his team, for his light.
That's what Teiko's phantom sixth man, Kuroko Tetsuya, thought. Even though he had finally joined the first string and become a regular, he was certain he was the weakest member. He was afraid. The others kept getting stronger. If he didn't get stronger too, they wouldn't need him. He would be alone again. He didn't want to be alone again. He had to become a better phantom.
And so it began, the downward spiral to the pits of hell.
Somewhere in his mind, he knew his thought process was wrong. He knew it was messed up, but that part of his mind was silenced by his fear and desires. That knowledge was swept into the dustiest corner of his mind where no light ever shone.
He looked up weight loss tips and tricks online and made a list of the best ones, most of which were not exactly healthy. He documented his food intake and exercise in a small notebook that he carried with him and weighed himself every two days. He knew a person didn't lose weight overnight….every two days was probably pushing it too, but he was impatient.
That was the beginning, but the weight loss was too slow. He cut back his intake even further and resorted to skipping some meals entirely. He ate less and less and worked out more and more.
He needed to be weightless. He needed to be the perfect phantom. He didn't care how much it hurt. He didn't care how hard it was. He didn't care that he was losing sight of himself. He didn't care that he was falling further and further into the hole of anorexia.
They called him a phantom because of his lack of presence, but he called himself a failure. Phantoms are weightless. Ghosts are pure. But he is not weightless and he cannot be pure as long as he allows food to pass his lips. He is not a phantom. He is not a ghost.
But he will be.