Chapter Text
One stupid decision after another led to a small mountain of debt that Rin now owes to this inn and tavern. It started with an eating contest he both proposed and failed, leaving him to foot the bill for multiple people eating as much as physically possible. Those were the rules... and those were rules he himself came up with. It came at the steep cost of much more money than he could possibly pick out of unsuspecting folks' pockets and whatever dregs of self esteem he had left. To top it off, he had no place to stay either—so he made a deal with the owner (with a great deal of pleading and bargaining).
So here's the deal: several days' worth of travel away is a strange and magical land that's said to hold some sort of a treasure, a powerful object which the inn and tavern owner wants. Rin doesn't really know a whole lot about it, but the owner says this item will help him with his business and it should be well enough to pay for anything Rin owes him, and more. After all, the man's not too keen on going on the journey himself. He's got a fine establishment to run! And Rin, on the other hand, well he hasn't got jack shit to do. A wanderer by nature and a thief by trade, the fox-man has no proper job to show up to, nor a house to call home (unless you count the barns he'd secretly fallen asleep in during his treks through the countryside. Only trespassing if he gets caught!).
So, it seems only fair that Rin takes up the task of traveling to find this... relic, or whatever it is. And seeing as it's sure to earn the owner a fortune, well, he's decided to be generous, and give Rin complementary room and board in the meantime. It's not like Rin can run away without consequences... the owner was sure to impress it upon him that if he got up to any funny business running away and not delivering on his promise, he'd send all the guards from here to the northernmost village down upon the poor fox's head.
It didn't take all that much convincing for Rin to agree. He didn't need any more guards after him—he had to be cautious enough as is with his occasional theft.
What is it, exactly, that Rin is waiting for, while he gets free food and board? Well, the tavern and innkeeper hired a second person for the job. Just someone looking for a little extra pay, apparently, but they aren't in the area yet, busy with something else, so Rin is left to wait for his companion to arrive.
And free food... well, he sure does make the most of it.
With each day that passes, Rin eats and drinks far beyond his heart's content, gorging himself around the clock. And whatever time he doesn't spend forcing more food into his overworked stomach, he spends wallowing in self pity in his room or taking long walks through town in the hopes of keeping his lightning fast metabolism running. The little voice of self loathing that has made itself comfortable in his head torments him day in and day out, reminding him of his failure to meet his parents' standards, all the friends he doesn't have, and how embarrassing he is just to look at in public. So in response, Rin spitefully eats and drinks even more if only to stifle the voice for a while when he's too intoxicated or lost in a food coma to hate himself with too much precision. Of course, it always backfires later on, when he wakes up with a pounding in his head or a burning stomach ache, and the voice reminds him it's all his own fault that he's in pain.
At some point the innkeeper is on the verge of banning him from the tavern, about to call it quits on the little job and just hiring someone else who's less of a nuisance, complaining that the damn fox-man will eat his entire kitchen and the pantry too at this rate. But then Rin goes and makes such a spectacle of himself everyday that customers actually start showing up just to watch his antics, so the innkeeper relents, and allows Rin to continue indulging himself. Morbid curiosity sells, he supposes. All the better (or worse) for Rin.
It's after another day of binging that Rin finds himself downing a third plate of dinner and a fifth tankard of ale alone in his room. He'd started off with a slab of grilled pork with vegetables, and then he went and downed a plate of sausage and potatoes, and now he's trying his best to get through a plate of ravioli.
That's when he hears a quick knock on the door.
It sends an alarm through Rin's mind and he quickly puts the plate aside and stumbles to the door, wincing at the discomfort of moving so suddenly while being so full. He gives his room one last glance—it's in no state to be seen by other people, used dishes and empty bottles strewn about all over the place. So he only cracks open the door enough to peer through.
There's a tall hare-man with smooth grey fur standing there, arms behind his back and a stern, serious expression on his face. A pair of shiny glasses hide his eyes. His ears are straight, pointed back and dignified in posture. He's got a dark vest on over a slightly tight turtleneck, outlining well pronounced muscles on his arms, coupled with dark trousers and a large satchel on the floor beside him. The thing seems to have. million pockets. Rin feels terribly disheveled by comparison, his orange fur unbrushed and his own button up shirt wrinkled and stained, once blue and now grey trousers not faring much better and his belt long neglected somewhere under the bed. Even his tie, which he never learned how to tie properly, hangs loose over his shoulders like a shriveled up snake.
"What do you—what do you want?" Is all Rin can manage to slur out, suppressing a hiccup.
"Good evening, I'm sorry to disturb you at this time," the hare-man says in a flat but soft voice. "You wouldn't be named Rin by any chance, would you?"
Rin's tail ruffles. This can't be his traveling companion already, can it? But who else could it be... "I thought you were supposed to arrive tomorr— * hic * tomorrow?" He feels his face flush as the stubborn hiccup manages to escape him.
The hare-man's eyebrow raises, but his expression remains blank otherwise. "So it is you, then? The work I had to do before arriving was completed faster than I anticipated, so I thought it wouldn't hurt to be a bit early and meet you before we start the job."
"Well, you've met me alright," Rin states, growing nervous. This fellow looks so respectable, and he can't bear the thought of having to travel with someone who's silently judging him all the time. Rin was not ready to meet him at this hour, he was so sure he had this last evening free to mess around and indulge...
"Apologies," the other says quickly, reaching out a hand, "my name is Jericho."
"Well it's nice to meet ya, Jericho," Rin snakes an arm around the barely opened door and gives Jericho a clumsy handshake. He notes how the other's grip is firm and steady, his own sloppy as he struggles to coordinate himself through all the ale in his system.
"Given the extra time before our scheduled departure, I was hoping to discuss the upcoming journey, and go over any thoughts, plans or the like that we may have. Over dinner, if you'd like?" Jericho proposes.
If only Jericho knew!
Rin lingers in the door, brain grasping for straws to make a decision, his heart rate picking up.
"Yeah, sure, I'll be down in a sec, just give me a moment." Rin replies, flashing Jericho a toothy smile.
"Right. I'll see you then." Jericho gives a small nod and turns away to head down to the tavern.
Rin shuts the door behind him and leans against it, letting out a strained huff, followed by a weak hiccup. Well, looks like today's binge just got more intense and now he's gonna do it in front of someone he's gonna actually have to spend time with. As much as he's embarrassed before anything has even happened, he already knows his self control will be straight out the window.
He puts a palm against the side of his belly, feeling how distended it already is, noting the feeling of his pulse around it as his body does its best to digest the two and a half dinners he's already eaten. He gives his abdomen a little press and it squishes like a sack of jello. He'll manage. He always does, somehow. Usually.
So he grabs the thick coat he stole the other day, praying it's loose enough to hide the bulge of his stomach against his otherwise spindly frame and buttons it up. It's not in much better shape than the rest of his clothes, but the dense fabric does well enough to conceal Rin's current shape. It shouldn't feel tight... but it does. Well, it only feels as tight as it does due to the engorged state he's in, but Rin's otherwise built like a twig and if only he weren't so full, it would fit just fine. Well, it's enough for now, he decides.
Straightening his back and squaring his shoulders, Rin sucks in his gut as best as he can and heads out into the hallway and down the stairs. The tavern isn't terribly packed but not empty either, the air full of warmth and conversation and the smell of cooking. Rin spots Jericho sitting at a small table on the edge of the room, writing in a small notebook with a quick but steady hand.
Rin slips between the various tables, doing his best to maintain his posture and wishing he'd been able to at least wash his clothes before this, but it is what it is. He takes a seat across from Jericho, but the tall man keeps writing, not looking up. Rin inches closer to the edge of table, hoping to obscure himself as much as possible. Jericho still doesn't seem to notice him.
"Helloooo?" Rin says with a touch of sing-song in his voice.
Jericho's gaze shoots up to meet Rin's with a faint hint of surprise. "Oh, I didn't see you arrive."
"Whatcha got there?" Rin nods to the notebook.
Jericho slips his pen into the crease of the open spread and gently shuts the book, pushing it to the side. "I like to process my thoughts this way," he explains. "It helps me to stay focused."
Rin lets out a small hum of consideration. Just then a server arrives, introducing themself and ready to take their orders. They cast Rin a look. Jericho requests a bowl of creamy chicken soup and a cup of red tea, and Rin asks for noodles in a white sauce and eggnog with rum.
When the server leaves, Rin looks to Jericho and swallows around a lump of nervousness that's been growing in his throat. He can feel his heart hammering both with the anxiety of trying to hold a conversation while on the verge of a food coma and the excitement at the prospect of eating even more .
"First things first, I wanted to consider what supplies we might want to get our hands on before we start traveling," Jericho begins. "Sugarland is practically edible in and of itself, so we will only need rations for the stretch of the journey before we reach it."
"Say what?" Rin's ears perk up. "What do you mean it's...?"
"You don't know?"
"Well, I know there's something magical about the place," Rin says. "Don't know much more than that."
Jericho clears his throat and slides his notebook back over, flipping through the pages. "I've done some research in preparation," He says, eyes rapidly scanning over the text. "There are several regions that have formed as a result of an intense concentration of magic. In the case of Sugarland, it's a part of a series of regions that contain the energy from people's vices. There's a land built on anger and resentment, which both burns hot and is freezing cold all at once. There's another for envy and jealousy. Where we're going is built on greed and gluttony." Jericho's eyes dart up to meet Rin's for a split second, quick enough that if Rin blinked, he'd miss it. The moment sends a rush of embarrassment through him that heats up his face and makes his fur stand on end.
Jericho continues. "What the tavern keeper here wants is for us to retrieve the relic from this region. It's said to contain some sort of power that allows the bearer of it to control people's vices, and seeing as he's running a business, it makes sense that he would want something that could influence how much money his patrons spend. The relic could influence people to buy more."
"Sounds ethically questionable," Rin remarks.
"I must agree with you there," Jericho says as he flips a couple pages.
"Sugarland's magical properties are built on the energy of greed and gluttony, so that means that a large amount of the environment is completely edible. Because of this, we won't need to bring rations for most of the journey." Jericho looks up at Rin expectantly, awaiting a reaction to his elaboration.
Rin hums to feign thoughtfulness. For a long time he'd gotten so used to food being scarce while making his way through countrysides and down back roads and it seems that's what he'll be going back to, if only for a short time. On the one hand, he wants to buy extra rations so he can keep eating to his heart's content on the short journey before reaching their destination, but on the other hand, rations are kinda gross and he doesn't want to make demands on Jericho like that right after meeting him. It's not like Rin has the money to pay for all that, it's why he needs to go on this mission to begin with. He'll have plenty to eat when they reach Sugarland anyway. Maybe the break will be good. His body hasn't exactly been happy with his recent lifestyle after all.
"Then there's the subject of the weather. Conditions in Sugarland can vary dramatically, so it would be good to bring coats and means of setting up proper shelter," Jericho continues. He goes on, listing various supplies and tools that could be necessary, Rin doing most of the listening, fighting drowsiness all the while.
Soon enough their orders arrive and that wakes Rin right up. The savory scent of their dishes rises up with coils of steam and Rin is grateful for the little break this conversation has given him, as he feels his mouth water despite his previous meals. Jericho's soup looks amazing too—Rin's had it a few times in the past week, and he recalls how smooth it is, how the herbs in it fill it with flavor. But he's got his own dish to focus on.
He twirls a hefty amount of pasta around his fork and bites. The cream sauce is rich, salty but not too salty and spiced with oregano, sage and basil, and there's a hint of sweetness from the milk fat. The noodles are just the right texture, not too hard, not too soft. Pasta and cream sauce always go down easy.
Rin is quick to take another large bite, then another, forgetting his company and humming with pleasure. Suddenly he's less careful, and a glob of sauce splashes on the table. Jericho begins on his soup, taking measured spoonfuls and casting Rin a glance that makes Rin's face flush the slightest bit. He's being improper... Jericho must think he's a slob. The next bite Rin takes is notably smaller and he slows his movements. But man, he does not want to slow down.
"There is also the matter of the... wildlife and magical entities," Jericho continues after a couple more spoonfuls. "The inconsistent weather is one thing, but what we may encounter in terms of fauna is another matter entirely. I struggled to research anything on the subject, since it seems that things are always shifting and changing. By the time one researcher has recorded a thorough description of the local lifeforms and published it, it's already started to turn into something unrecognizably different."
Rin swallows his latest bite. "I'm not too worried. I usually figure stuff out on the fly anyway," he gestures vaguely with a hand. "Good to get used to thinking on the spot, I'll say! Never know what could happ—" Rin's sentence is cut off by a deep hiccup that makes his whole abdomen spasm. He realizes just how tight his stomach feels and his hand instinctively flies to his side where it bulges slightly, the other to cover his mouth. "Excuse me," he mutters, ears flattening in embarrassment.
"Are you alright, Rin?" Jericho asks, suddenly eying him. "Does the meal not agree with you?"
Rin feels his pulse roaring in his ears and he feels like the is world tilting just a bit beneath him. "No no, I'm fine, I just uh, had a bit to drink before and well, it's no big deal," he sputters out, waving a paw dismissively. Jericho offers a curt nod and his mouth presses into a thin line.
He thinks you're disgusting. You really think you can hide the state you're in? Rin's thoughts torment him.
"Ahem. Like I was saying, I'm not that concerned about what we run into. Let's adapt and not let worries weigh us down!" Rin recovers as best as he can and takes another bite. His eyes wander to Jericho's soup, the scent of it still wafting over and in spite of everything, Rin feels a spark of temptation.
"You have a good point," Jericho says, sipping his tea. He adjusts his glasses. "I admit, I have a habit of overplanning at times."
"Could be good to have a mix, a good balance, y'know?" Rin adds, taking another bite. He steals a glance around the room, noting several servers busy hurrying between tables.
Jericho nods with a look of consideration. "Given the region's unsteady nature, I suppose it would be good to be prepared to think on the spot."
Jericho continues going over his thoughts and research on the matter, occasionally flipping through his notes, and taking sips of tea and soup in between. Meanwhile, Rin continues listening, nodding, throwing in short comments, all the while practically demolishing his pasta and eggnog despite his efforts to slow down. Even as he does his best to suck in his gut, the dome of it is undeniably visible even through his thick coat, and his muscles strain to hold everything in place. He squirms, trying to find a more comfortable position while also not making it obvious how full he is. It feels like there's not enough space between him and the table's edge yet he's not actually sitting all that close to it. He can only hope it looks like he's just wearing a lot of layers.
God... why can't he ever stop? Why can't he just share a normal meal with another person? Maybe he could have some real friends again if he could only stop being such a wretched, greedy thing. Always thinking with his stomach so that he can stop thinking with his brain. Just you wait until Jericho sees what kind of a person you are. He'll see you as a joke. A freak. Just like how everyone else thinks of you. But beneath the voice that taunts him is another voice, Rin thinks. One that begs him to stuff himself, and then stuff himself some more. His legs clench together at the thought. Rin glances around again, catching sight of a nearby server and calls to them, his voice coming out more sluggish than he'd like.
"How can I help you?" The server asks, already knowing what Rin is after and asking purely out of routine. All the servers here know very well what Rin is like by now.
Rin gives them a nervous grin, internally pleading that they don't call him out in front of his brand new travel companion. "Could I get some of that soup, please?" He gestures to the bowl in front of Jericho.
The server seems to understand his expression and simply responds, "Coming right up."
"The soup is very good," Jericho remarks simply, adjusting his glasses once more.
The pair continue to talk, making their way through their meals all the while. Jericho is almost at the end of his soup when Rin finishes his pasta, and with damn near perfect timing, the server shows up with Rin's second order. It's steaming and warm and thick by the looks of how the liquid moves as the bowl is placed in front of him and Rin feels his body tense with adrenaline. He also feels like his stomach is a giant tankard filled to the brim and boy is it sore. It's like someone's wedged a barrel between his ribs and pelvis. By now the fabric of his coat is pulled uncomfortably tight around him and well, it's all Rin can do to ignore and excuse the way he sees Jericho's eyes flit up to him and then back to his notebook.
As the conversation begins to taper and Rin makes his way through his bowl, he finds himself leaning back, feeling warm. Maybe a little too warm. His fur is getting sticky with sweat, and he wants to take off his coat and give his body the space to breathe and cool down, but not yet. Not yet. Jericho sips at his tea.
"So why exactly did you take up this job, anyway?" Rin asks, taking another spoonful of soup. Every bite makes his stomach hurt a little more, but as always, he just can't help himself. He's reveling in it.
There's a small pause and Jericho looks lost in thought. Rin wonders what exactly he's thinking about.
"I'd like to do research on the magic of the region," Jericho replies. "It's one thing to read so many books on the subject, but a whole different experience to actually see the place itself."
Rin drains the last of his soup, quickly followed by the rest of his eggnog. It takes a good bit of effort to get one swallow down after another without stopping to catch his breath. And as he swallows the last sip, he feels his diaphragm spasm, forcing out a deep, wet hiccup that sends a shock of sharper pain across his overstretched belly. His hand flies to cover his mouth.
"Excuse me," he says quickly, trying to stop himself from panting.
"Mm," Jericho simply hums, his expression unreadable and he stirs his tea. "And what brings you on this trip?"
"Ah..." It's Rin's turn to dig through his brain for an answer, but it's proving difficult to think. His whole mind feels completely overwhelmed by the almost sickly feeling of overfullness, and what few thoughts he can conjure seem to slip away from his grasp into the murk of intoxication. Generally this feeling is what he would hope to achieve, but it proves to be a rather literal pain in the middle of conversation. "Um." Rin forces his voice to make a sound, if only to fill the silence. "I owe the owner of this place," he manages. "Gonna repay him this— *hic* —this way."
"I take it you're not getting paid for this then?" Jericho asks. "In my case, I thought getting to research and being paid in the meantime was an ideal combination—"
Another hiccup from Rin interrupts Jericho as he speaks, but he quickly continues. "—Er, combination for me. It seemed like the perfect job to take up after my last one."
Rin flounders, anxiety flaring in his chest as he feels he's entered into a series of hiccups he can't so easily suppress. At least Jericho hasn't commented on it at all.
"Yeah, I'm not getting paid. My payment is— *hnk* —it's getting my debt for— *hic* —forgiven." Rin squirms, leaning forwards with a slight groan. The movement makes his stomach feel all the more tight, his muscles and skin stretched taught around him and he can even feel the buttons on his coat straining desperately to contain him. As he has felt many a night now, he feels that that last bowl of soup was a mistake. But it's all the worse now with Jericho sitting there in front of him, stoic and proper and unreadable.
Rin hiccups again, and it's a harsh one that jolts him, and he hears a small pop and feels his clothes shift with a sudden releasing movement. Then there's a small * plink * sound.
A rush of adrenaline floods up his spine and his head feels heavy with horror as he notices the small ripples in Jericho's cup of tea. Then the way one of the buttons on his coat has burst clean off, the open gap now revealing his stretched shirt clinging tightly to his belly.
The two sit in silence for a moment. Jericho doesn't say a word, only peers into his cup with eyes hidden by his reflective glasses.
"I think—I think I'm going to go to my room," Rin sputters in a panic, struggling to get up from the table, pulling the sides of his cloak around himself in an attempt to his the damage. "It was great to—to meet— *hic* —meet you, I, um..." Mind racing, he doesn't even bother finishing his sentence, and he stumbles away, heart pounding.
As soon as Rin shuts the door to his room behind him, he struggles out of his shirt and cloak and leans against the wall. His head is spinning and his throat is tight with nausea. He could very well vomit here and now from the sheer embarrassment coursing through him, and god, he feels sick. Of course something like this would happen. He's always doing something to humiliate himself.
Fuck you. Fuck you, his mind says to him. Horrible greedy thing. You know what you deserve. You know how you should be punished.
Rin's eyes wander to the bedside table where his old plate remains, the half eaten ravioli still left on it from when Jericho first showed up. Yeah, this is what he deserves. A fitting punishment for something so greedy as him.
He staggers to his bed and sits heavily on it, feeling his insides jostle, and takes the plate. The lukewarm and slightly dried contents of it look utterly unappetizing, but that does little to stop him from picking up his fork and proceeding to shove the cold food into his already overstuffed stomach. He feels so heavy and it hurts but it hurts like it should .
By the time he's finished, he can barely move, so he stays slumped on his bed, willing himself to forget this whole evening, letting a wave of drowsiness wash over him. He isn't sure when he finally manages to fall asleep.