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Takumi walks back to his room after his short conversation with the boy on fire. Eito is contained for now. Locked in one of the courtyard cages, but is that really the best way to go about ensuring he doesn’t do anything? It might cut off his ability to use hemoanima, but it also leaves him completely unsupervised most of the time.
Maybe they can fix him. Maybe they can change him. Nobody knew about Eito’s mental problems the last go around…. Maybe if Takumi gives him something else to focus on, he’ll be distracted from his more murderous impulses.
Takumi can’t sleep, mind too full of what ifs. How many different ways could Eito potentially sabotage them? What if he dies? He doesn’t want to deal with that either. The Eito he used to know did kill people, but maybe there’s a way to stop this Eito from doing that.
He spends the night turning ideas over. There’s a biology lab in the academy, he can mix together what he needs to. After the first hundred days, he feels comfortable enough with chemistry he wouldn’t blow anybody up. If he’s lucky, the gift-o-matic might have what he needs for this plan.
If he can change Eito, maybe he can change the future. Maybe more people will survive.
The rooms will be open soon enough.
He can put his plans into action then.
—
Eito’s not sure, exactly, why it’s Takumi coming into his cage in the morning. Maybe everyone else felt some sense of disgust. Fine. He doesn’t want to deal with them either. At least Takumi is interesting, fascinating in a way Eito can’t pin down. He is an anomaly he almost wants to study.
Takumi already knows about his condition. He doesn’t force himself to stare at the monster invading his space. Eito’s gaze drifts down to the tray of food. All of it unwrapped, ruined by a monster’s touch.
He feels nauseous.
“I’m not eating any of that. You tainted it.”
“It came straight from the ration-o-matic.” Takumi is trying to rationalize it, make it seem less disgusting than it obviously already is.
“It doesn’t matter where it came from because you got your filthy, disgusting human hands all over it. Even if you ate some of it right now, that doesn’t change the fact it’s soiled.”
The lump of monster before him seems to tense up. “Then, what? You’re just going to starve to death because you won’t eat anything we give you?”
What could he possibly mean by we. It’s only Eito in a cage with no shower and no sink and nothing but a bed and a toilet. Humanity doesn’t want to think about the living conditions of people they don’t want to exist. They’d probably be happier if he was dead.
“Yes.” It’s a fit of childishness, but considering he’s trapped like an animal, he’s feeling extremely justified at the moment. Logically he knows he’s not going to let himself die from starvation. There’s always a chance that somebody trips up, leaves the door open, allows him a way out. All he needs to do is stay alert.
Takumi opens the door, takes a seat on his bed, placing the tray on the thin mattress. Gross! Absolutely awful! He can’t even wash the sheets with the way they’ve taken his freedom. The SDU members won’t wash the sheets for him either. Now that he’s a liability he’s easily discarded, easily left to rot.
“What are you-“ and shoves a spoonful of porridge in his mouth. His pus stained tentacles pinch his nose, forcing Eito to swallow. Eito claws at Takumi’s hand, trying to push him off, glaring daggers in an effort to be let go.
“Be a good boy and eat.”
He feels sick to his stomach. He wants to throw up. He wants this monster out of his cage. The rising feeling of disgust at a human being too close to his body is familiar.
Out out out out.
He can’t open his mouth again or Takumi will force feed him his tainted breakfast. Clenching his jaw shut, swiping for what might be Takumi’s throat. Make it so he’ll never step foot in the cage again. Make him regret his choice.
Eito’s hand connects. He squeezes down. He should have done this last night. Eito should have killed Takumi when he had the chance. The drones might take him away to get revived right now, but at least he’ll never come back. A promise of fresh air, no Takumi, no violations spurs him on, squeezing, squeezing, choking the life out of the monster.
It takes longer than expected to have him go limp.
As expected, a drone comes to take him away.
Unexpectedly, he takes the food on his bed and starts eating. He doesn’t feel hungry. The food still seems tainted to him. Yet, he puts it into his mouth, fighting the urge to vomit it up. It’s necessary to keep his strength, he can’t allow himself to be malnourished.
By the time he’s finished with the food, the door is locked again.
—
Apparently, his violent episode did not deter Takumi from returning to his cage. There’s no clock in the courtyard, no way to mark the hours except the fake sky. It might be noon, or it might be later. Nobody else comes to visit except Takumi with his rancid smell and another tray of food.
It’s not wrapped this time either.
Takumi opens the door, sliding the food into the cage. At least he doesn’t follow this time.
“Here, I brought you lunch. Be good and eat it, okay?”
He wants to spit at him. He wants to lunge at him and kill him again for the satisfaction. The door to his cage is closed and locked. There’s no way to get at Takumi’s horrendous form.
“You don’t have to watch me like a zoo animal.” He is on display. Maybe not under constant supervision, but there’s still no privacy to be had in the courtyard. Anybody could walk in at any time.
The old tray gets thrown at Takumi. It doesn’t manage to hit the corrupted flesh of his head, but the bounce against his chest does elicit a certain sense of satisfaction. A decent enough second place prize.
It’s easy to take the new tray, place it on the bed, take a bite out of the roll. Takumi watches him, his scent permeating the courtyard. Even in such a large space, his proximity means his stench is far too strong. Eito forces himself to swallow against his urge to vomit.
“I need to make sure you’re eating and not throwing everything away.” His voice is like nails across a chalkboard, but maybe Takumi doesn’t want a prisoner wasting away in a cage after he decided to spare him.
“Is this some kind of voyeurism kink? Are you a pervert? It’s so gross when you watch.” The depths of human depravity shouldn’t surprise him anymore. Yet here’s Takumi to offer him new and worse outlooks. Maybe he only spared him to torture him for whatever indiscretions his former self wrought.
Takumi doesn’t say anything else, watching as Eito finishes the food on the tray. He doesn’t taste a bite of it, Takumi’s fetid odor ruining the sensation. It’s the only thing he can smell or taste.
He throws this tray at Takumi’s head.
It lands. Takumi yelps.
Eito smiles with satisfaction.
—
A person can habituate to anything when it is their only choice. Takumi brings him meals. Takumi orders Eito to eat. He watches like he’s getting off on mastication. He only ever leaves once the tray is empty.
It takes some time to notice the way his body is changing. There’s a swell to his hips that wasn’t there before. His chest feels a little softer than it should. His hair is getting longer, reaching past his shoulders. Naturally, nobody’s willing to give him anything sharp, nobody will allow him to cut it. Takumi won’t give him a hair tie either. Does he think he’ll choke himself with it? As if.
As usual, Takumi walks in with his tray of food. “Be good, listen to me, and eat your breakfast, okay? Don’t throw the tray at my head this time.”
Eito rolls his eyes, doing as he’s told. It’s just eating, like normal. Takumi’s scent still destroys any hope of the flavor of the food, but he forces it down anyway. Takumi never leaves until he’s finished the entire tray.
This time he’s focusing on Eito with all of his many grotesque eyes. “Take off your jacket.”
What? “Why should I?” As if he’s a puppet on strings, he’s unzipping his jacket, slipping it off of his shoulders and setting it aside. He crosses his arms over his chest to afford himself as my protection as he can, self-conscious of the swelling there.
“Be good. Don’t hurt me.” Takumi is opening the cage again, letting himself in.
“What are you doing?” He feels the landscape of their relationship shifting beneath his feet. It’s unsettling. Despite his mind screaming to attack the monster in his personal space, his body remains stationary.
Takumi comes up close to him, too close. “Stay still.” That’s not even an answer. He puts his tentacles under Eito’s shirt, leaving trails of slime. Once Takumi reaches his chest he squeezes.
Eito is too stunned to do anything at all as Takumi continues to grope his chest. A few more squeezes, then Takumi is moving on to playing with his nipples, gently pinching them until they’re stiffening under his touch.
It’s gross.
It’s so unbearably gross. He can’t pull himself away. He can’t say anything, nobody would even care about what Takumi is doing to him. He’s Takumi’s little pet project and Takumi’s alone. He hasn’t seen a single other SDU member since he’s been locked up in here.
Takumi continues to play with his swollen chest. Horrifyingly, the longer Takumi rolls his nipples around, the harder he’s getting. He wants to scream, yell, cry, kill, kill, kill.
He can’t.
“What did you do?” There’s some kind of violation here, he’s sure of it. Something is undeniably, irrevocably wrong, but he doesn’t know what Takumi’s done to him. Were there drugs in his food? The food that he’s been eating like an idiot? Even if he tells himself he didn’t have a choice but to eat something, is that really true?
He feels sick. He can’t fight Takumi. His limbs are locked in place from what’s rapidly revealing itself as an order.
“I’m making you better.” The worst part is, Takumi seems to mean it. This misguided, self righteous fool who’s changing his body, ripping away Eito’s autonomy like it never mattered at all. “I’m making you Karua. You’ll be a good girl for me.” And throughout it all, he hasn’t stopped playing with Eito’s nipples.
That’s not a name Eito’s heard before. What is he becoming in Takumi’s mind? Some sort of horrendous replacement goldfish for some girl in Takumi’s life that he can’t do without? He wants to struggle against the shift in his fate, but he can’t. Takumi’s order is absolute.
After what feels like an eternity of being molested, Takumi lets go of his breasts. Only to snap handcuffs around Eito’s wrists and start to lead him up and out of the courtyard with a, “Follow me.”
Eito has no choice but to obey, hyper conscious of the state of his body. The slimy residue of Takumi’s hands cooling against his skin and his nipples still straining against the thin fabric of his undershirt.
He feels too vulnerable.
They’re headed up to the roof, straight into Takumi’s hut. Eito is being chained to the wall. He was a prisoner in a cage before, but this feels more intimate in a way that makes his skin crawl.
“Takumi really is nothing but a pervert.” He should have known better. Whatever fascination Takumi held in his willingness to allow Eito to live is replaced with disgust. There’s something so much worse than the beast Eito can see with his eyes. Takumi is a monster with rot and corruption in his soul.
“I’m doing this for you!” Somehow he seems to mean it. He’s somehow deluded himself into thinking drugging and groping and molesting is in Eito’s best interests.
And people say Eito’s the delusional one. He would laugh if he wasn’t sick to his stomach.
Bewildering. How did Takumi decide any part of this is for anybody other than himself? He clenches his jaw as hard as he can. He can’t fight back but he can still argue. He still has his words drenched in poison. “Oh? When you decided to drug me, that was for me? When you decided to change my body that was for me? When you decided I should be a girl that was for me? Did you just want me at your mercy? Did you think Eito’s a danger, so I’ll take away her free will?”
Why the hell did he say her?
“Shut up!” A roar that pains Eito’s ears.
Eito’s mouth shuts, obedient, as his soul fills with hate.
Takumi paces in front of him, probably. The squelching sound of his feet against the ground indicate it, anyway. “You don’t get it. You’re just… If I do this then you won’t hurt anyone anymore, You’re Karua. Karua. Karua.” The name is repeated like a mantra, like a new identity being carved into his soul.
Eito doesn’t want this.
A fresh wave of rage crashes into Eito’s chest. So now his name is being discarded. His very identity inconveniently defective and tossed away for Takumi to graft something different onto.
Takumi comes back to stand in front of him, “You’ll be a good girl, Karua. You’ll be a good girl, and you’ll call me Takkun. Okay?”
As if it’s a request, as if it’s something Eito Karua can even think of refusing. “Okay, Takkun.” The nickname feels heavy in his her mouth, like a sealing of fate.
A part of her becomes imprisoned in her own mind.
—
It turns out nobody minds that “Karua” is now living out her days in Takumi’s room. She’s his little project and she’s coming along nicely. Takumi still delivers her three meals, each equally as drugged as the last. There’s nothing to do but eat and obey and hate.
When Takumi changes out her clothes for a blouse, a skirt and panties, there’s nothing to do but wear them. Everything thing she’s given shows off her breasts and her nipples, these massive swollen things on her chest.
Takumi always makes sure to play with them every single day. They’re sensitive now, nipples almost always straining against the thin fabric of her shirts. How humiliating to be so constantly aroused. Did Takumi add aphrodisiacs into her meals, or is this the natural conclusion of being a good girl.
It makes her skin crawl when Takumi brushes out her hair, calls her beautiful and presses a kiss against the sensitive skin of her neck. He’s still monstrous to her, and she’s certain that will never change. These days she can’t do anything to harm him. She feels like nothing more than a declawed pet, but at least she still has her poisonous thoughts.
She needs to be a good girl. Even when she’s chained to the wall and her arms are locked in handcuffs.
Good girls spread their legs when Takumi tells them to. She doesn’t complain when Takumi pushes her panties to the side. He rubs a finger against Karua’s asshole, carefully applying lube. “You’re so beautiful, Karua.”
It’s not the first time she’s been treated this way. She knows what’s coming next. She feels her body betraying her just as always, the praise heating up her body in a way she finds disgusting. Her cock straining against the frilly panties that can scarcely contain her length. “Ah… Takkun…” The only name she’s allowed to call him now. “Thank you…” She rubs her hole against Takumi’s finger, body yearning for the friction she’s come to desire as her mind wishes the monster was dead.
Takumi’s free hand slithers up her shirt, groping her generously sized breasts, thumbing over a nipple. “Your body is so perfect now. Perfect for me. Your breasts are so beautiful.”
The praise heats, goes straight to her core, as Takumi inserts his first finger. It goes in so easily it almost makes her sick. Instead she graces Takumi with a sweet smile, encouraging, just the way he wants. Karua is a good girl, after all and Eito isn’t supposed to be here at all. “Takkun… I need you…” To die, she thinks as hatefully as she can manage, through the haze of arousal.
No such thing happens, Takumi is still alive and well as he pushes a second finger in, scissoring them, making sure she’s ready to take his length. “So ready for me, all the time, aren’t you? Beautiful, sweet Karua.”
She would gag if she could. She’s not allowed anymore. “Yes, Takkun.” Because it’s true. Because she hates it. Because she’s been ordered to be this way. Karua can’t deny an order if it comes from Takumi.
Once Takumi is satisfied with his prep work, he lines up their hips and pushes himself into her. It feels good every single time, without fail, he’s memorized the way to make her aroused or he’s ordered her arousal. She’s lost track.
She hates that too, even as she moans out in pleasure. How disgusting, humiliating, gross, gross, gross to have anything human inside of her body. Her body and mind disagree as she cries out, pleasure, hatred and humiliation coming together for a horrendous cocktail of feelings she’d rather discard.
“You’re being so good for me, Karua.” He bottoms out, ever so slow, ever so sweet and delicate with Karua’s body.
“A-anything for Takkun.” Not there’s any choice. Anything Takumi wants, she has to do. Anything he asks she complies with. That doesn’t seem to bother him as he starts to move his hips. Maybe he’s forgotten Karua is under a spell to behave this way, maybe he’s deluded himself into thinking this is what she wants. It’s probably easier than understanding how much he’s taken away from her.
Takumi groans in her ear. It’s completely disgusting, a dreadful sound that only a monster could make. That is what Takumi is. Karua’s always seen him for exactly what he is, a monster pretending to be human. Rot clings to his sin filled form as he starts to hit Karua’s prostate.
She sobs in pleasure, tears pricking at her eyes as Takumi comes inside of her for the first time that night. The thought of choking him comes to mind, but with her hands bound by the handcuffs there’s simply no way. She feels herself being filled with his seed.
There’s nothing ahead of her but endless days of this. Endless days of praise, arousal and being completely and utterly used by a monster.