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The hunger gnaws. Emptiness has a taste, and it crawls up your throat. Settles on your tongue and makes a home there. Hungry. It’s all you can think about. You aren’t used to it being this bad. Or maybe you got too used to it being good, that now the nostalgic claws ripping apart your stomach feel foreign.
You tap your fingers against the table and glance around the room. It’s unfortunate that Ruiko keeps her apartment so clean. Moss and mold are always easy snacks. The fuzz choking your throat in that fluffy sort of way. Then again, you usually threw up after. Acidic in the way that burned. It wouldn’t do you any good to try that.
The hunger moves you to action. Standing with wobbly knees and carefully throwing drawers open in a way that doesn’t make too much noise. You can never assume it’s safe, even if nobody is home.
Your eyes land on a box of chalk. Ah, that should work. Carefully, you grab the cardboard in shaking fingers. You can’t remember why she got it. You think she wanted to draw on the sidewalk, but it rained when the two of you got home. Then she tossed it aside. You think so, anyways. Your memory is... hazy. Was that Ruiko, or was that one of your foster siblings? Was that a couple of days ago, or was it years?
Thin fingers slide the white stick out. You should only take one. It’s easy to excuse if one thing goes missing. Misplaced, used up. You can’t be greedy.
Your teeth are able to break it easy. It quickly turns into dust in your mouth, parching you. You ignore it, though, eagerly gnashing at the chalk so you can get it down your throat. It tastes worse than the hunger, you think, but your stomach accepts the offering with reluctance.
You glance at the box.
There are 12 of them. Were. 11, now. Look at you counting. Maybe you aren’t completely stupid.
Would she really miss a second one?
It was sitting, forgotten, at the back of a random drawer. Wedged between the wall and a stack of magazines from years ago. Hidden away. You don’t put things in boxes if you care about them going missing.
The second one feels worse in your mouth. Teeth grainy and cheeks full of white powder, but it goes down. And as it does you continue to hunger. Greedy, greedy, greedy. But you can’t stop yourself from having another one. And another. It’s horrible. You hate this. Surely it would be better to starve, but. You remember what starving feels like.
“Masa?” Ruiko asks, standing in the doorway. You go completely still. One hand holding an empty box. The other holding the last piece of chalk.
You feel her looking you over and wonder what she sees. Does she see what Manami did? Someone pathetic that she had to take care of? Someone who can’t handle being hungry, so she has to resort to stealing people’s things? Someone she doesn’t actually want to deal with anymore, but feels bad giving up on?
Ruiko approaches you, and you close your eyes. The darkness dulling whatever fate she has in mind for you. She approaches, and you count her footsteps against the wooden floor.
She walks past you, and opens the fridge.
“I didn’t think my cooking was that bad.” She huffs, annoyance coating her words while you crack open your eyelids. “If you didn’t want the leftovers, we have... Hm.” Ruiko makes a displeased sound. “Actually, I don’t really have anything. I should’ve gone shopping.”
She closes the door and looks at you. Casual. Manami would never look at you like that. You made her too nervous.
“Do you wanna go shopping with me? We can get more of that gross microwave stuff you like.”
You feel something very heavy and painful shoot through your body. It’s tight and aches, but it’s a good kind of hurt. An unfamiliar muscle being stretched.
You smile, awkward and stupid and ugly looking. She smiles back anyways.
“Um. Okay.”