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Genya started getting growth spurts shortly after he discovered his demon eating abilities.
It had started with the uniform. He hadn’t been as eager to receive it as his blade. The blade ended in disappointment, remaining the filthy, natural gray in his hand. But, the uniform fit well. He was on the smaller side, and the gakuran and hakama pants were loose enough to move comfortably in, but also held tight. Tailor-fitted to his build.
Then, one mission and one traumatic cannibalistic experience later, Genya found the gakuran a bit too tight around the shoulders. He tried to ignore it, even though it hindered his movements.
But, it was undeniable now. The consumption of demonic flesh caused him to grow taller at a rapid pace. And now, he was training under the Stone Pillar, who’s training regime made him gain muscle mass faster, too. Much faster than his previous workout pace did.
Genya was growing at a pace faster than he was comfortable with.
A mere month after meeting Gyomei, Genya had managed to outgrow his gakuran. It now sat high above his waist, exposing his abdomen. It was impossible to tuck it into his belt. When he tried to take it off, it tore at the shoulder seams. He awkwardly asked Gyomei to help him get a new uniform.
And now here he was, another month later, standing in front of his bedroom mirror, his fingers shaking as he held the once again too small uniform.
It was beyond frustrating and infuriating. He didn’t ask for this stupid growth spurt. It caused aches and pains in his shoulders and back. Torn muscles that healed almost instantly, struggling to keep up with the growth of his bones. The bones also creaking under the pressure, sometimes snapping and buckling under the weight. The thin lines that appeared around his stomach and arms from the skin being stretched.
And his face had changed, too. It was even rougher and meaner than before. His eyes were sunken in and his brows were permanently furrowed. The scar tissue on his cheek pulled at his skin. Even his canine teeth were now sharper than they should be, a side effect of his constant demonization.
He looked scary .
He looked like Dad .
Genya grimaced in order to suppress a whimper. The memories of their good for nothing, piece of shit dad swam up in his head. The beatings, the swollen eyes and bloodied lips. Pain.
Genya had never noticed how many of his dad’s features he had inherited until recently. He had been small before, just like the rest of his siblings. They seemed to have taken after their mother. But now… Genya noticed the eye shape, the head size, the chin, the nose, even down to a scar on the cheek. People could look at him and tell that he was his father’s son.
“I’m not like him. I’m nothing like him.”
But, he had hurt ‘Nemi. And he had punched that girl after Final Selection. He felt so angry , all the time. It burned and boiled and it hurt .
“I already apologized to her. And I’ll apologize to ‘Nemi, too.”
But an apology wouldn’t be enough. He needed to atone, too. And that meant getting stronger which meant eating more demons which meant getting taller which meant looking more like Dad-
Genya trembled all over, trying to stop the cascade of painful thoughts. When he looked down at his hands, he saw that he had torn part of the collar and popped one of the buttons off. Strong enough to tear a supposedly extra durable uniform, but not strong enough to use Breaths.
Useless.
From outside the room, he heard Gyomei call that dinner was ready.
“C-coming!” Genya yelled. He folded up the uniform and placed it by his futon. He quickly slipped on one of the spare yukatas - not his regular purple one, which was also becoming too small, but one of the larger ones that wound up being a bit too big. Not that Gyomei would notice the outfit change, anyways.
Genya could smell the gyudon before he saw it. It was… mouthwatering. The beef and rice… and the vegetables. It was bound to be delicious. His stomach grumbled.
Gyomei was already waiting for him. After the customary prayer and “itadakimasu,” Genya picked up his bowl of rice. Gyomei always waited for the sound of Genya’s chopsticks before he began eating himself, even though it was custom for the person of the highest rank to take the first bite. Almost as if he suspected Genya's tendency to skip out on meals, and wanted to ensure he ate his fill.
But now, Genya just stared at the bowl with a sick feeling in his stomach. It was no doubt delicious - he had eaten enough of Gyomei’s cooking to attest to that - but he simply couldn’t bring himself to eat. His lips remained tight, as if someone had sewn his mouth shut. It felt like his throat was closing in on itself. Genya couldn’t help but think that if he forced food down now, he’d throw it up later.
He never had much food as a child. They were poor, and he’d much rather give his scraps to his younger, more feeble siblings. He and ‘Nemi had been the same in that regard. “When I sleep, I don’t get hungry.” His old excuse to soothe his mother’s and brother's worries.
Maybe, because he didn’t eat much back then, he remained small.
Maybe, if he ate less now, his growth spurts would lessen.
“Genya, is something wrong?” Gyomei asked from across the table, picking up that Genya hadn’t touched his food.
“N-no, everything’s fine.” The lie tasted foul in his mouth. Genya quickly picked up some rice and swallowed it in an attempt to wash that foul taste out, the chopsticks clinking against the rim of his bowl.
The rice was plain, as usual. But it was well cooked. There was nothing to complain about. It tasted good. Genya felt his nerves cool down as he took another bite. Across from him, Gyomei also began eating.
Genya got halfway through his bowl before he remembered he had to tell Gyomei about the uniform. The nerves returned.
“Uh, Himejima-san-” he said. His voice trembled. What was he so nervous about? Gyomei was kind and understanding and he wasn’t going to punish him for needing a new uniform.
“What is it?”
“I- uh- outgrew my uniform again,” Genya murmured, keeping his gaze focused on the single grain of rice stuck to the rim of the bowl. He didn’t want to meet his mentor’s unseeing gaze.
“The growth spurt again?”
Genya made a light “mm-hmm” sound. The twisting knot in his stomach was back in full force and it felt like his throat was closing up again. He didn’t trust his voice.
“Alright. I’ll notify a Kakushi and you’ll have a new uniform in a few days.”
There, that was easy. There wasn’t even a change in his tone, not even the slightest. But… Genya couldn’t shake the sick feeling in his gut. He set the bowl down with a bit more force than he intended to and scrambled to his feet.
“I-I’m sorry, Himejima-san,” he said as he bowed his head. “I don’t think I have the appetite right now. Gochisousama.” He turned around and left the room, leaving a half empty bowl of rice and the beef and vegetables completely untouched.
Genya hurried back to his room, sliding the door shut behind him. His hands were shaking. He was hungry but he didn’t want to eat, he didn’t want to get even taller and look even scarier and waste everyone’s time because he needed a new uniform every month-
A single knock came on the door, and Gyomei entered after a moment.
“Do you want to talk?” was all he asked.
Genya shuffled back a few steps, subconsciously reaching up to his mohawk and playing with the ends. “I… I don’t know.”
He wasn’t sure how much he could trust people. Gyomei was his mentor, his teacher, not his damn therapist. Could Genya really trust him at the end of the day? Enough to open up about… all this.
“I- I’m really sorry for leaving the meal early, Himejima-san,” he forced out. It was hard to even form words. “I… had been training just a little while before. Didn’t feel like eating after that.”
Another obvious, foul lie. It seemed to burn against the roof of his mouth.
“Is this because of the growth spurts, as well?”
Genya froze, before dropping his head and making another sound of confirmation. There really was no use in lying to Gyomei. He saw through him without fail. “I- I just thought that if- if- if I ate a little less, I wouldn’t grow as much.” Saying it out loud made him feel foolish and stupid. “I-I know, it’s dumb, but-”
“You… don’t want to be taller?” Gyomei asked.
“Mm-hmm… I don’t want to… inconvenience everyone because of my uniform. And-” he hesitated, questioning whether to state the burning, more personal reason. “And… I don’t want to look any scarier.”
People say that speaking from your heart makes the burden feel smaller, but now Genya knew that was a big fat lie. The twisting feeling was threatening to drag him under, he felt as if he was going to collapse. He bored his gaze into the tatami floor as his hands curled into fists at his side. His shoulders were shaking, his lip was trembling. Everything felt cold .
After all, it was his own damn fault he looked scary. He could afford to scowl a bit less. Maybe he would if he wasn’t so driven in chasing after his brother, even if it meant adopting his mannerisms and building up walls around himself. He could be less scary. Look at Gyomei. He was huge but people weren’t scared of him. Everyone respected and admired him. He was the pinnacle of strength.
Something Genya could only aspire to achieve in his deepest most ludicrous dreams.
There was a sudden warmth as Gyomei reached out and gently placed his hand on Genya’s shoulder. It was comforting, though Genya couldn’t stop shaking. After a second, Gyomei’s hand moved, now pulling him into a hug. Genya’s breath almost hitched as Gyomei’s other hand brushed through his mohawk. He could feel wetness in his eyes threatening to spill down his cheeks.
Gyomei wasn’t acting like a mentor or a teacher or even a damn therapist in that moment. He was acting like a dad . Or, what Genya imagined a good dad to be. What he thought his dad would have been if he wasn’t such a piece of shit.
“Your soul is clouded with fear and insecurity, and your path in life is riddled with uncertainty. I understand your worries. At its core, your soul is gentle, and thus you fear others misreading it, just as much as you fear being looked down on.”
As usual, Genya could do without the proverbs, but stripped of the misleading roundabout phrasing, Gyomei’s words made sense. Or, at the very least, it was what he wanted - needed - to hear.
“If you don’t mind me asking, is there a reason you associate height with intimidation?” Gyomei sounded almost… concerned. Was he worried he had somehow caused that association in Genya’s mind?
Genya felt a hiccup at the back of his throat. “It-it’s not because of you, Himejima-san. It- it’s because of- because of m-my… my- my d-” His voice died off to a whimper. He couldn’t say it, couldn’t even force himself to. He wasn’t ready.
Gyomei understood that. He returned to petting his hair.
“Either way, it appears another person caused this association within you. And that is the cause of your current conflict.”
“I want to get stronger,” Genya mumbled. “Strong enough to- catch up to aniki. But, I don’t like that I’m getting so tall, either.”
“I understand, both your drive and your conflict,” Gyomei said. “If strength is your desire, accepting your height may very well be part of the journey there.” Genya’s heart sank a bit. “But, it is not a journey you are alone on. There are people here willing to offer you guidance. For now, try to reframe your person of reference. Come up with a way to frame your height as something positive.”
Reframe your person of reference. Someone who could make his height shine in a positive light. Someone who… was strong and tall, but also kind. Wise, gave good advice. Someone who… acted like a father to him.
“Al-alright,” Genya said, nodding his head a bit. “I-I think I have someone in mind.”
“Good.” Did Gyomei understand who Genya was referring to? Well, if he did, he wasn’t the kind to voice it out loud.
Genya remained still for a moment, then wiggled out of Gyomei’s embrace. He felt a bit drained after that exchange, like his mental energy had been sapped.
“H-Himejima-san? I- can I go back to the dining hall a-and finish my rice? I… I don’t think I can stomach the beef right now, but I can eat that tomorrow.”
“Right. Come with me.”
As Genya trailed after Gyomei back towards the dining hall, a shaky, trembling smile came over his face, fresh tear tracks running from his eyes.
Looks like what the people said had some worth, after all. After getting all of that out, the burden on Genya’s heart felt the tiniest bit lighter.