Undertaker33
patreon
Patron's Prompt: Wishing to See Stars (SFW)
🕑 Added 2020-01-31 09:59:39 +0000 UTCAuthor's note: This story is the SFW version of this month's Patron's Prompt. It is set about a year into the H&LML timeline, and directly predates Blind Drunk.
Please enjoy!
**************************************************************************************************
Hanako Ikezawa chewed on the back end of her pen. She realized with a regretting sigh that the pen cap was far tastier than the slop that currently filled her either of her plates. One of them held a portion of roast chicken that was small enough that it might satisfy a child. It had been prepared until it was black, flakey, and tasted like ash. Alongside it was a pile of steamed vegetables that somehow gave the appetizing appearance of being greasier than her burned chicken.
The Road Shell Canteen was a small little shop right off of Boundary Gardens in the heart of London, UK. On their website, the establishment promised to be a ‘Trendy arts community café.’
Hanako put a very large checkmark next to the written-out mission statement on her yellow legal pad. She wrote in very small script ‘Downward trend is still trendy.’
She sat on a tiny brown chair that was far too small for even a pudgy girl like herself. She was only just a few dozen pounds past two hundred. Was comfortable seating also beyond the capabilities of this open-air restaurant?
She began writing on the bottom of her notes using paragraph format, being sure to use her native Japanese as she always did.
‘Everything in London seems smaller after having been in Italy for the last two months. The food has me desperately wishing to return to Rome.’ She broke off, looking up at the overcast gray sky above before continuing with her notes. ‘The Road Shell Canteen is an open air facility in a city where no such thing should exist. The sky has been gray for nearly a full week, and the temperament switches between muggy and raining.’
She glanced around, attempting to gather her thoughts and embellish the atmosphere. A young Caucasian man with a scruffy, unshaven beard and huge-rimmed glasses was taking a selfie of himself with his coffee. His mouth hung open in a silent scream that spoke to Hanako’s soul.
‘The atmosphere has a feeling of desperate need for acknowledgement. It’s a small walk away from many iconic sights, and has you pass through an unlabeled door that you must buzz through, and then through a small garden before arriving at the restaurant proper, as if it is your grace to attend rather than being greeted as a guest.
The menu itself allegedly changes day by day, which means some food will likely be better than others depending on staff experience. However, given that the chefs don’t seem to understand how to prepare a simple roast chicken without burning it, experience may be something they are already lacking.’
“How’s your meal?”
Hanako leapt up and down on her pudgy rear, causing the tiny wooden chair to nearly give way beneath 250lbs of sudden squish. She felt her tight black pants pinch into her navel at the button as her muffin top tum settled over the waistband. “O-oh!” she coughed, eyes twirling so her mind could switch back to English. “Your food is fine.”
She nodded to the waitress, a tall dark woman with bushy black hair.
To prove her point, Hanako quickly attempted to cut a slice of her chicken with her fork. The meat had become so tough and dry that such an un-serrated separation proved to be impossible, and she fumbled for her knife.
The woman spoke in a thick accent, something about Hanako’s drink (a heinously bitter tea that was short about seven cubes of sugar), and Hanako found herself nodding without really understanding until the woman walked away.
Hanako let out a deep breath of relief, raising the hand which still gripped her pen to her chest. She was getting better with interactions, that much was true, but it would help if the people of England spoke… English. Everyone spoke in this terrible mix of accents that overlaid anything that they said.
Things could be so much simpler if they were all written out. Hanako didn’t have any problem when it came to putting her voice on paper. It was one of the things that made her such a good journalist, and then redoubled, such a good reviewer.
Well… that, and her growing appreciation for culinary art.
She was more than aware that she’d become a heavy girl. Ever since she’d left university and began traveling the world, Hanako had found food to be the great unifier. Everywhere she went there were dishes to be made, food to be eaten.
One moment that stood out to her was a few years ago, when she’d been in Egypt covering revolutionary protests. Hanako remembered being floored that just two blocks away from what felt like a war zone, there were enough people in line that she had to wait six minutes to place an order at McDonalds.
She brushed a lock of purple hair out of her eyes and returned to writing, denoting the specifics of flavor and treatment of the dishes she’d ordered. The waitress returned with another cup of horrible tea, which Hanako left untouched as she continued. When she reached what felt like one of the worst reviews she’d ever presented, she colored in one single star at the top near the eatery’s name and then flipped the page of her notepad.
The Quintessential Vegan Café ★☆☆☆☆ stared back up at her. She flipped it again.
The Diner Shortditch ★★★☆☆ had pancakes, one of Hanako’s favorite foods, which she only considered minorly cheating.
Next was The Blue Lion ★★★★☆ near Hoxton Square where she had purposefully avoided anything that wasn’t fried or alcoholic.
Little Rascal ★☆☆☆☆
Princess Arthur ★☆☆☆☆
Starbongs ★★☆☆☆
The Sinking Horse ★☆☆☆☆
Hanako quickly went through the notes she’d taken over the last week, looking at all of the less than stellar reviews that she would be faxing back to the office when she returned to her hotel. It was then that she reached the first place she’d done a review for since she arrived on this tasteless island.
Itsyuki’s Japanese Sushi and Noodles ★★★★★
She went to the next open page of her notes and wrote in very large script a note to her editor. The notation was simple, a huge frowny face that stretched the entire page. Rena, who was her editor and close confidant, would likely get a kick out of that.
Hanako pushed the remaining half of her meal away and signaled for the check.
******************************************************************************
One of the things that amazed Hanako the most about the West was how much they looked down on the idea of fast food. Constantly, people attacked the companies for selling unhealthy products, rather than taking responsibility for their purchases. The whole concept was such a foreign idea to most Japanese.
If you didn’t want to eat something unhealthy, why get food from that seller? And then to blame them for your purchase? It was silly.
Hanako knew for a fact that she was being unhealthy. More than that, she was perpetuating her own growing waistline and causing her pants pinch her tummy ever so tight. She just honestly, truthfully, did not care. She wanted a burger, and so she ended up getting three.
The white paper bag had a light layer of wet grease staining it when she returned to her hotel room. She placed it down on her desk and sat in the rolling chair, removing her small black cap and placing it off to the side before undoing the cute black bow that was tied around her neckline.
Then came the best part. She had to lean back to unbutton her pants, as she was no longer able to see the button beneath her belly. She struggled for a moment before tugging her lilac colored shirt out of where she’d tucked it and then tried again.
The button came free and like a broken dam, pudge fluffed out. Both sides of her pants were forced to make way as her large belly automatically undid the zipper, sounding almost as harsh as if they had ripped. She gave a relieved sigh and sank back into the chair, letting herself just sag out. She could still feel the pinch around her thighs and hips, but it wasn’t nearly as cutting as her belly had been.
She lifted her shirt and inspected the angry red line that she’d given herself. Her mostly pale skin looked practically raw at her waist, with pinches of forming love handles on either side of her ribs.
Hanako then noticed her scars. The right side of her body had been badly damaged by a fire from a young age. It’d been so harsh that she’d spent years constantly trying to hide the entire right side of her face, even if it was just by using her hair. It took a lot of effort, and a couple of sessions of true therapy, to accept herself. But it was more thanks to the people who gave her a foundation. Their belief in her caused her to believe in herself, and while she’d still rather communicate through a computer screen than a microphone, she felt that drive increase every day.
It was just a shame that her swelling confidence seemed to correlate with a swelling need to replenish her wardrobe. She was beginning to run out of options to buy the same clothes in a bigger size.
Double Xtra Large… it was weird to think about, that she was double Xtra anything.
She’d have to talk more with her coworker at the international paper. A close associate that worked as a domestic Japanese food reviewer named May who had been in the business since she was in middle school. Over instant messaging, and when the topic had arisen, she’d told Hanako that turning 22 had seemed to be the final droplet before her metabolism snapped and looking at food seemed to make her gain weight.
Hanako wouldn’t consider herself that far along… not yet, anyways. But really, what did it matter? Hanako had finally gotten to a position where she could love herself, scars and all. Being a fluffy pillow sounded… well, honestly? Kinda fun.
She opened her bag and picked a few fries out of the super-sized container, snapping them up before removing anything else. They tasted warm and salty, giving a golden feeling compared to the gray misery that had come from the canteen.
Still chewing, she arranged her three double cheeseburgers in a row next to the huge box of precious potatoes. She opened the first and saw a pleasing abundance of extra cheese, just as she’d asked, dribbling over the edges of beef and the bun.
Her first bite was slow, crunching over well-prepared lettuce and onion before her teeth cut deep into the meat. A small geyser of ketchup and grease flooded over her tongue and she thoroughly chewed, making a delighted groan of absolute relief.
She lamented that she wasn’t allowed to review fast food places. If she were only just be permitted that, she wouldn’t have to wobble down the street looking for anything to pop out at her tomorrow.
An unmarked door and a garden wall… she snorted through the bite, a bitter laugh at the pretentiousness of the eatery. All that ‘trendy’ effort, and it still couldn’t compare to decently cooked beef on a wholegrain bun.
She wondered how many more days she’d be kept here, eating prison slop. She considered writing a note near the smiley face, asking to be sent back to Italy where she didn’t need to have salty fast food just to wash the taste of ash out of her mouth.
She was suddenly hungry for pasta again, and wondered if anywhere offered something like that around here. She seemed to remember something about an ‘authentic Japanese ramen shop’ nearby and resolved to go there after she finished her burgers.
Hanako was not a quick eater. She was acutely aware of every bite that she ate, every calorie consumed. It took six bites with her small mouth to finish the first and her hands automatically shoveled some fries to follow as she unwrapped the second. She wished for a moment that the hotel had ketchup for her fries, but shrugged it off and returned to the joy that eating always brought her.
And then… it started to bubble beneath the surface. She could feel it begin in her belly, bubbling alongside as she ate. She’d ordered too much. She knew at the counter that she didn’t need nearly this much, but she’d ordered it anyways.
Hanako gained more than just joy from eating. It gave her passion, something she tried fruitlessly to repress. She held her second burger in one hand and with her other began to lift her shirt. She let it settle atop of her tummy, leaning back and pushing her gut outward.
She was getting so fat. She could almost touch the desk with just her belly. How much longer would it take? What if she just stuffed herself tonight? She could eat more than this… but if she was going to go out… No, they’d deliver, right? She couldn’t leave, not now.
Hanako took another bite, felt her belly churn against her hand. She was grunting now, making small sounds of pleasure while she filled herself.
In her head, she wasn’t rubbing her belly. It was another hand, her hand, reaching around from behind. Hanako was sitting in her lap, squeezed between her thighs. She could feel her breath on her neck, the warmth of her lap. A sudden sensation on her shoulder and Hanako could feel ghostly lips kissing her. And then the ghost whispered.
‘My, my… Hanako, how much you have grown. How heavy are you now?’
“T-twohund and sixe,” Hanako mumbled aloud, sending crumbs down onto her belly. A trickle of grease escaped her lips. She took another bite before realizing she needed to swallow, and nearly choked on the fresh mash as a light sensation of nails poked into her tummy.
‘My little Hanako. She’s become such a big girl. All out on her own.’
Hanako chewed, gasped, and swallowed. She realized then that her shirt was gone, that she was suddenly rocking back and forth against the girl’s lap, feeling the woman’s hand ghosting over her belly. Going lower, sinking into her fluff.
‘You feel like you’re getting bigger every day,’ Hanako’s ear prickled when the ghost blew on her ear. ‘My sweet little flower. My darling Hanako.’
“Uuungh,” Hanako thrust her hand against the desk, pushing back into the other girl’s lap. She lifted herself and sat down, pushing up, grinding against her. The tightness in her tummy fueled her passion. She was a tubby pillow, a fat little doll. She wanted to be held by her, for her touch to… to…
******************************************************************************
The third burger had disappeared, as had most of the fries, into Hanako’s tummy. She could feel the tightness of her tummy pushing out with each heaving breath as she lowered away from exultation. The other’s hands were fading now, pulling away from Hanako’s middle.
She leaned back into the other’s lap, eyes suddenly searching as the woman began to fade away. She saw her pale skin, her bright smile and wavy blonde hair, but was drawn in by the endless current of those unseeing blue eyes that caught the light even in this dark place. They glimmered like the most beautiful stars.
She felt precious lips kiss her upon her cheek. ‘Until next time… my little Hanako,’ the other whispered.
And then she was gone.
Hanako removed her hands from her stomach. She let them dangle over the armrests of her seat while she sat still gasping for air. There was an awkward creaking of the chair now, and she began to again feel the arms cutting into her fluffy hips. She was suddenly aware of her hotel room, of the gray skyline that looked so full and yet as if there was nothing in the city at all.
She brushed her dry hand through her hair, pushing it out of her eye. She released another breath, this one of resignation, sitting up in her chair. She needed to send in her faxes for the evening.
She tightened her forefinger and thumb over her eyes, trying to banish the phantom from her mind. The desires were getting worse. Swelling along with her belly. The more she ate, the more real they seemed, her stuffed stomach anchoring her to the other’s lap.
She needed to get a date. She needed to go out and just… just talk to a boy. Or maybe a girl. Anyone.
She wondered if May ever had problems like this. Or maybe Rena could give her some advice.
But Hanako was already dismissing that. She knew she wouldn’t ask anyone. She’d bottle it up, keep it to herself, and then overeat again like some little piglet that wants everything put in front of her.
Hanako popped a fresh handful of fries into her mouth. For the first time, she saw herself acting. She was self-aware of her own dismissal, of her repression of thought. There was no way she could ask May or Rena… there was only one person she could talk to.
And as Hanako thought about it, in a fresh and hot mind she stood up from her chair. Her pants were too tight to her hips, and she had to awkwardly tug them all the way off before waddling to her phone.
In her underwear, she began to make a call. She nearly canceled it, but it hardly rang once before it was answered.
“Hello?” came a soft voice that sent prickles of familiarity all the way down Hanako’s shivering spine.
She felt her tummy bounce with tension and a slight fear. She took a breath, swallowed, and forced out the words. “H-hey… Lilly. It’s me.”
“Oh! Hanako!” the voice was sweet, far too alike to her phantom. “It’s been too long! How are you?”
Hanako looked down at herself. She had small spots of sweat and grease on her nearly nude body. “I’m… good.” She swallowed again. “I miss you.”
The voice hummed cheerfully. “I miss you too, Hanako…” she said, leaving the words hang. “When are you coming back? We must meet up. I would like to hear all about your travels!”
Hanako stuttered. This conversation wasn’t like she had expected. She realized she needed to see her, needed to feel her, something other than ghostly lips and breath in her ear. “I-I-I… I’m not… um… maybe I can get some time soon?”
“Maybe for the Holiday?” Lilly prompted.
“H-holiday?” Hanako asked.
“It is March, isn’t it? I’d have thought that the United Kingdom would be all covered in green. Akira has told me all about Saint Patrick’s Day when we’ve visited during this time.”
“Oh!” Hanako had completely forgotten. She’d hardly even known of the day, and hadn’t noticed anything in the major city to celebrate the Irish. “Um… I can talk with Rena. Maybe I can!” She felt herself getting excited now, and she turned.
The phantom of Lilly Satou stood before her. She wore her hair down, not up in her usual bow. Her pale body was shapely and soft, curvaceous as it had been when they’d graduated High School together. She was as beautiful as the phantom that Hanako often desired.
Her unseeing eyes were closed and she held a phone to her ear. Her words matched perfectly to her mouth as she spoke. “That’s wonderful! I’ll tell Hisao, and we can make arrangements. You can stay with us, if you’d like.”
It was like getting a bat to her stomach. She coughed. “Y-yes… that sounds good… thank you, Lilly…”
“You don’t have to thank me, Hanako,” Lilly whispered as her phantom turned to ash. “I’ll always be here for you.”
Hanako nodded numbly. “I know… I’ll call the paper… make arrangements.”
“Let me know how it goes!” Lilly said. “I’ll hear back from you soon!”
“Yes… call you back…” Hanako grunted and then hung up.
She sat down on the edge of her bed. It took some time to focus on her breathing, to bring herself back, but she felt the familiar pang in her stomach.
She went to her clothing and replaced her pants and shirt before walking out of the building and to the noodle shop, intent to bury that feeling with as much food as she could stuff into herself.
Behind her, the phantom walked, and at one point reached forward and took her hand.
