Disclaimer: All characters and canonomical facts belong to Konomi Takeshi. The Rikkai naming system (Marui as 'Maru', Niou as 'Haru', Yukimura as 'Mura' and so on) belong to Sandileina. I own the rest.

Warning: this fic contains mature themes that include, but are not limited to, eating disorders, drug and alcohol abuse, self injury, and death, among others. This will also probably contain some shounen-ai, and quite possibly mature sexual themes. If you do not feel comfortable reading a story with this content please leave now.

A/N: Because I shouldn't be starting a new story, but I am, and here it is for the world to see. No shooting on the topics, and if it makes you uncomfortable - well, that is the point. Also, in later chapters there may be some canonomical differences due to the plot of the fic - this fic takes place at the beginning of canon. So here's chapter one.

Dedicated to everyone who has ever had to go through any of these, and to those who weren't quite so fortunate to make it out.


Words had a funny way of twisting themselves. They could begin as one thing and end up meaning something completely different, especially depending on who was interpreting them and who was saying them. The same set of words said by two different people could mean two completely different things.

But whenever it came to Marui, the comparison between his name and another familiar word were always the same: teasing, mocking. "Maru" meant round, the difference from Marui when in romaji barely discernible. So it was an obvious connection, especially with the commonly known fact that he was a person who had a great sweet tooth.

But that didn't stop it from hurting some times. At beginning it had been all in good fun; it was generally just Niou saying it anyway, and the boy was always bitter. But then it had spread. And he had put up with it with Akaya, and even somewhat with Yukimura, but when other students – other members of the tennis clubs and other classmates of his, and people he really didn't know very well – had started using the word and his last name interchangeably, it hurt. It made it true somehow. Even though the logical part of his brain told him that he played tennis and that he wasn't fat in any way shape or form, he started to believe it.

That was when it began.

He didn't make the conscious decision or anything; he didn't wake up one day and suddenly decide. It was just one of those subtle "well, I need to even things out" moments where he decided to start cutting back on what he ate.

That had been years ago – or that was what it felt like, despite the fact that it had really only been a little under a year. It was really his second year of middle school, half way through and right after the season had ended that everything had really started. The reason had been simple: the season was ending, at least for the third year students, and he had a shot at making the regulars - but he had to be in the best shape possible, which included his weight.

The season was starting again; he was a regular.

But that didn't matter.

He couldn't change, couldn't stop, wouldn't change, wouldn't stop.

Leaning over the toilet retching with fingers down his throat directly after his lunch hour, Marui Bunta couldn't do anything but submit.