Manorexic
By: Holly Rose E.
Rating: T
Thank You's To: JyouraKoumi, InfynitiStar, x1-TaKeN-oVeR, minnermon, Mrs.Ishida-to-you, Tamika DanarDraco, Sovereign of Silence3

Chapter Three: Buried Alive
I ate the spine of Atlas
Now the world is crushing me
Otep

"So, Yamato, how are you liking it here so far?"

Long, smooth, tanned legs crossed delicately at the ankles. An itchy-looking plaid skirt hugged thighs and hips perhaps a little too tightly for work, and a summery flower blouse hugged her torso like a baby does to his mother's finger. Auburn eyes stared empathically, as a slender hand brushed away a stray strand of coppery hair.

Yamato immediately disliked her.

She smiled at his silence, not at all disconcerted, and leaned forward a little bit. "You know, it might seem like a big deal to make small chat, but really..."

He cut her off briskly, "Do you always dress like that?"

She blinked, his first utterance in nearly the twenty minutes that they'd been here. Sessions normally ran an hour, but because this was his first day she had decided he didn't need any more 'stress' for the day, so they cut the time in half. But, she decided, at least he's said something, however smugly.

"Sometimes I wear pants."

"Just as tight?"

She cocked her head slightly, and tried not to fidget. "Not normally, no. Why?"

"You look like you're trying to be somebody you're not. You're a doctor, not a playboy wannabe pin-up. Don't dress as if you have a body that kills and stupefies men's brains. You don't, and usually, people aren't that interested in seeing bodies as nearly as much as they like to proclaim. We're all prudes, and if somebody says otherwise, they're in a state of utter delusion." He stated all of this calmly enough, with only a little shard of ice in his eyes. "I think people become nymphos because they want to forget how ugly their own bodies are and immerse themselves in another's. Some become voyeurs because they like to see what they could never be, for better or worse. Some others, though, just shut down and refuse to see skin and arms and fat and stomach because it's disgusting."

He clenched his lips into a pale, straight line and stood up, all the essence of aloofness, although his butt had stuck to the leather seat of the couch and made that awful noise again. "Good day, Takenouchi-san."

He made his way over to the door, and she merely watched him go with an apprehensive curiosity. "Yamato," she said carelessly as his hand brushed the doorknob, "Beauty is always rearranged whenever an eye falls upon it. Ugly things are beautiful, and sometimes the most beautiful things are the ugliest."

He smirked at her, giving her his worst look – a sneer with full ice in his eyes at out of one half of his face – and opened the door and briskly stepped out.

"Yama-kun!"

His eye twitched and he immediately lashed out at the speaker. He stood trembling, clenching and unclenching the first he'd just nearly broken against the wall. Daisuke crouched on the ground, eyes wide and hands above his head. "Whoa, hey, I guess they haven't drugged you yet!"

"Y-y-you..." He couldn't seem to get control of himself again, "Don't call me that!" He exploded, a lock of hair falling out of place to tickle his ear, which he very agitatedly nearly yanked out as he brushed it back. "My name is Ishida Yamato and I do not have an eating disorder!"

Startled at himself, he cried out in rage and stomped back to his room. His very door-less room. His very cluttered, obnoxiously filled, tripping-on-leggos room.

He sat on his bed, closed his eyes, crossed his legs and arms and tried to stop the vein in his forehead from twitching so much. He never lost control like that; he never, ever, ever lost control like that.

"Um... Yamato?"

Oh of all the rotten... He opened his eyes to glare at the dark-red-haired boy who was leaning around the doorway nervously. Daisuke grinned widely and decided to come into the room, without being invited nor without any sign that Yamato wasn't going to try and crack his skull in again.

"I just wanted you to know," Daisuke shuffled his feet in what was an attempt to look cute, "That... that you'd better be nice to Taichi-sempai!" He struck a pose, stars in his eyes as he tried to continue, "Taichi-sempai is the most wonderful guy ever and -."

"Shut up." Yamato nearly sighed it, "Please, just... shut up."

Daisuke bit his lip, and was awkward for a total of three seconds. "You know, you can eat lunch with me and Taichi-san, if you want... I'm pretty sure he wouldn't mind."

"No, than-."

"Wonderful!" Daisuke chirped, "I insist. I'll let Taichi know to come pick you up for lunch, it'll be wonderful!"

He ran over to quickly pat Yamato's knees gaily, before scurrying out of the room before Yamato could even register the events. When he did, he growled again and mumbled under his breath the worst sort of curses he knew – mostly from his own father.

His father...

I can't make it home tonight

You're gonna be on your own

I'm sorry

I have to go, I can't stay

I really can't

He laid on his bed and rolled over, stuffing his face into his pillow to try to suffocate the cries. The worst part of crying, he thought, is the telltale signs it always leaves behind. Sniffling, he traced his palms over his hipbones, relishing in their sharpness... But there's... still too much... he thought dismally, which only intensified his mood.

The ball rose in his throat, screaming beneath the surface to be let free, it strangled him from the inside out and he tried to refute it, tried to say 'NO!' as loud as he could, but he just couldn't help it.

He sobbed miserably into his pillow, hating himself all the more for being so weak in his emotions.

&&&

To the left wing, down two flights of stairs and behind closed-tight doors, Taichi Yagami screamed and screamed and screamed.

He screamed until he started to cough up blood.

And his therapist was proud of him.

Told him he was finally getting healthy.

Told him he was finally getting better.

Told him he was finally getting closer to being happy.

Taichi was getting better.

Or at least, he was getting better at getting what he needed. He surreptitiously slipped a safety pin into the inside of his tight sleeves when he reached over to shake the therapist's hand. He was going to be better.

New roommate be damned.

Closing Comments: Please review, I'd really appreciate! Constructive criticism is always a plus!