Puppet Strings

Chapter Three

One morning, Kyo kissed Tohru goodbye and headed to work, as he always did. His touch lingered on her cheek, and his eyes held a hint of concern, but he said nothing. Tohru smiled and waved him off, watching as he disappeared down the street. As soon as he was gone, her smile faded, replaced by the gnawing anxiety that had become a constant companion.

Tohru tried to distract herself by cleaning up the dishes and doing chores around the house.

She scrubbed the counters, swept the floors, and even reorganized the pantry. She folded laundry with meticulous care, each fold precise and deliberate. But no matter how hard she tried to focus, the thought of making herself sick loomed over her, an insistent whisper she

couldn't ignore.

The idea felt like it was calling her, a dark temptation she didn't know how to resist. She moved from one task to another, but the compulsion grew stronger with each passing minute. She wiped down the kitchen table, straightened the cushions on the couch, and dusted every surface she could find. Eventually, she ran out of things to do, and with no

distractions left, she felt herself being drawn to the bathroom.

With trembling steps, Tohru walked to the bathroom and shut the door behind her. She stood in front of the toilet, staring down at the water in the bowl. Her reflection wavered on the surface, distorted and pale. She felt a mix of fear and desperation, a battle raging inside her mind. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her hands shook as she gripped the edge of

the sink.

After what felt like an eternity, she got down on her knees. Tears filled her eyes as she hesitated, but the urge was too strong to fight. With a shaky breath, she leaned over and forced herself to throw up. The act was painful and left her feeling weak and dizzy, but a

twisted sense of relief washed over her when it was done.

Tohru sat back, panting and shaking, but she couldn't shake the grim satisfaction that came with erasing the meal she had consumed. She knew it was wrong, but the sight of her reflection in the mirror, slightly thinner, gave her a perverse sense of accomplishment. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, staring at her reflection with hollow eyes.

From that moment on, making herself throw up became an obsession. After every meal, she would excuse herself to the bathroom and purge the food from her body. It became a ritual, a dark secret she carried alone. The numbers on the scale began to drop, and for a brief

moment, she felt a twisted sense of victory.

But the cost was high. Her energy levels plummeted, and she became even more gaunt and fragile. Her friends and family grew increasingly concerned, but Tohru was adept at hiding the truth. She assured everyone she was fine, even as she felt herself falling deeper into a

dark rabbit hole.

Arisa and Saki noticed the changes first. They watched as Tohru's once vibrant personality became overshadowed by a quiet, haunting sadness. Arisa tried to confront her, her voice filled with concern. "Tohru, you've been acting really strange lately. Are you sure

everything's okay?"

Tohru forced a smile, her eyes avoiding Arisa's. "I'm fine, really. Just a bit stressed. You know

how it is."

Saki's gaze was more penetrating, her intuition picking up on the turmoil within Tohru.

"We're here for you, Tohru. Whatever you're going through, you don't have to do it alone."

Tohru's heart ached at their concern, but the compulsion to lose weight was stronger. She thanked them for their support, but she couldn't bring herself to share the darkness

consuming her.

One night, after dinner with Kyo, Tohru felt the familiar compulsion gnawing at her. They had shared a quiet meal together, Kyo's eyes filled with worry as he watched her pick at her food. She had managed to eat just enough to placate him, but now the urge to purge was

overwhelming.

"I'll be right back," she said softly, excusing herself from the table.

Kyo nodded, his concern evident but unspoken. "Take your time," he said gently.

Tohru walked to the bathroom, her heart pounding in her chest. She closed the door and leaned against it for a moment, trying to gather her strength. The mirror reflected her gaunt face, her hollow eyes. She knew she was losing herself, but the sight of the numbers on the

scale going down was a siren song she couldn't resist.

She got down on her knees once more, staring at the water in the toilet bowl. The act had become almost automatic, a dark ritual she couldn't escape. With a deep breath, she leaned over and forced herself to throw up, erasing the dinner she had shared with Kyo.

When it was over, Tohru sat back, tears streaming down her face. She felt a mix of relief and despair, a hollow victory that left her feeling more lost than ever. She knew she was trapped in a cycle she couldn't break, but she didn't know how to ask for help. The darkness had

consumed her, and she felt powerless to escape its grip.

As she sat there, alone in the bathroom, Tohru realized that she was in over her head. The weight on her shoulders was too much to bear, and the path she was on was leading her to a place she might not return from. The numbers on the scale might be going down, but the

cost was her very soul.

The days turned into weeks, and Tohru's condition worsened. She became increasingly frail, her body a mere shadow of its former self. Her skin was pale and lifeless, her eyes dull and sunken. She could hardly find the strength to get out of bed some days, but the compulsion

to lose weight drove her forward.

Kyo grew more concerned with each passing day. He noticed the way Tohru's clothes hung loosely on her frame, the way her energy seemed to drain away. He tried to talk to her, to get her to open up, but Tohru always brushed him off with a weak smile and a reassurance

that she was fine.

One evening, after a particularly rough day at the dojo, Kyo came home to find Tohru sitting at the kitchen table, staring blankly at a small plate of food. His heart ached at the sight of

her, so fragile and lost.

"Tohru," he said softly, sitting down beside her. "You need to eat. You're not taking care of

yourself."

Tohru looked up at him, her eyes filled with unshed tears. "I... I'm trying, Kyo. I really am." Kyo reached out and took her hand, his touch gentle but firm. "I know you are. But you're

not alone in this. Please, let me help you."

Tohru squeezed his hand, her resolve wavering. She wanted to confide in him, to tell him about the darkness that had consumed her, but the fear of judgment and the compulsion to lose weight held her back. She wanted to tell him about the puppet strings that controlled

her, and the voice of the puppet master rang in her head.

"Just give me some time," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Kyo nodded, though his eyes remained filled with worry. "Alright. But remember, I'm here

for you. Always."

That night, after a small, forced dinner, Tohru excused herself to the bathroom. The urge to purge was stronger than ever, the hunger and guilt gnawing at her insides. She closed the bathroom door behind her, feeling the weight of her actions pressing down on her.

She got down on her knees, staring at the water in the toilet bowl. The reflection of her hollow eyes stared back at her, filled with despair. With trembling hands, she forced herself

to throw up, erasing the dinner she had shared with Kyo.

When it was over, Tohru sat back, tears streaming down her face. She felt a mix of relief and self-loathing, a hollow victory that left her feeling more lost than ever. She knew she was trapped in a cycle she couldn't break, but she didn't know how to ask for help. The darkness

had consumed her, and she felt powerless to escape its grip.