Game of the Insane (Yandere Haikyuu!! x F!Reader Oneshots)

CLEANSE (Akaashi Keiji)

A request from my Tumblr:

Title: Cleanse

Pairings: Akaashi

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, swearing, Munchausen by proxy (possibly inaccurately portrayed), controlling behavior, mentions of mild starvation (withholding food)/significant weight loss, drugging (as in, giving medication the reader doesn't need), reader has a bad injury, Akaashi is really paranoid

Summary: You don't think there's anything wrong with you, other than your healing legs. Your physical therapist strongly disagrees.

cleanse

/verb/

make (something, especially the skin) thoroughly clean.

"You're losing weight."

It wasn't a question nor was it something you wanted to hear. Not something you deserved to hear. Not from Akaashi, at least.

Whose fault was that? You want to ask that question. Why do you act worried when you're the one who won't let me eat as much?

You aren't the type to confront others, and you're sure that's one reason Akaashi took advantage of your situation so easily. With your parents urging you to be grateful to him for all the extra help he gives you and the knowledge that they're paying an obscene amount of money for him to do so makes you bite your tongue.

You're positive that if you complained about Akaashi too much, your parents would make you pay for your own physical therapy and help you desperately needed. There's no way in hell you could afford a physical therapist on your own with how empty your bank account is.

Internally, you cursed Akaashi. Externally, you thanked him for his concern with as little sarcasm as you could manage.

After all, he was the one that cleaned out your refrigerator and cabinets, wasting the majority of your food supplies, claiming that you were too sick to eat this or that and you couldn't gain too much weight right now.

Why? You wanted to beg him for an answer, but you knew from experience that the answer you got wouldn't be satisfactory. His reasoning was filled with delusions he was so adamant about you were nearly swept away by his strong beliefs.

You didn't feel sick. The only thing wrong with you was your damn legs.

You didn't look sick. At least, not until Akaashi started interfering with your life.

"It's time for your medication." Your protests fell on deaf ears as the dark-haired man opened one of the many pill bottles he'd prescribed for you.

"He's a doctor. He knows best." Your mom always insisted that, if he thought you needed pills, you needed pills.

But this wasn't pain medication. It wasn't some sort of muscle-strengthening pills for your legs. These were pills that made you feel sicker and weaker with each dosage.

He was your physical therapist, not your doctor. You were positive he wasn't licensed to diagnose you with all the complicated, obscure diseases he'd decided you were afflicted with.

But every doctor appointment you scheduled was always mysteriously cancelled. Not that you could get there on your own. It was already hard enough to get around using your wheelchair, but with Akaashi's misguided "healing", you could barely move around the house on your own.

The more you weakened, the more you needed his help. And the more you needed his help, the happier he seemed. But it wasn't just about control, you could tell that much. His worry was genuine, and he was entirely convinced that you were sick.

In a way, it was sweet. He doted on you and seemed so concerned about every change in your health. What wasn't sweet was what his concern had turned him into.

It was a vicious cycle: his "cures" made you sicker, and you getting sicker made him try to treat your "illnesses" even more. No matter how much you tried to prove you were strong and healthy, it was never enough. And your attempts only grew less and less convincing as your health began to fail.

"I don't need the medication," you said, voice weak and trembling. There wasn't a chance in hell Akaashi would listen to you, but it felt wrong to go down without a fight. Every time you followed his instructions without a word against it, it felt like you'd completely lost.

You'd always lose against Akaashi, you'd learned that long ago, but at least, this way, you could say that you tried. You could say that you said "no" and he didn't listen to you. You could say you did your best against someone much more powerful than you were.

"You do need it," Akaashi continued extracting pills from the bottles. He'd added another one this time, which made 22 different medications in all. "You're sick (Y/n), I'm just doing what's best for you."

With your head hung low in defeat and a tear slipping down your cheek, Akaashi pried open your stubbornly clenched jaw and placed the first pill on your tongue and a glass of water at your lips, pouring it down through your helpless throat.

You choked on the liquid and capsule, fighting until the end to keep it in your mouth. Not that it would matter, when Akaashi immediately inspected the inside of your mouth, even checking under your tongue to be safe.

Your only reward for fighting back was a bitter taste. Both literally from the medication and figuratively from defeat.

"I'm doing this because I love you." Akaashi's voice was soft this time as he said it. "I couldn't bear to lose you."

Your heart caught in your throat at those words. He'd always said "I'm doing this because I care" but this time...

He loved you?

It certainly seemed true, with the way his fingers gently carded through your hair and his lips pressed so intimately to your forehead.

He'd never shown this much affection before and, looking up at his face, his normally passive expression was screwed up with emotion. Unshed tears shone in his eyes as his grip around your waist tightened as though he couldn't bear to let you go, even for a second.

"You need me!"

It wasn't a suggestion nor was it a question. His desperation bled out through his tone and expression, the true terror behind his insecurities and concerns about your health felt like it was finally being shown to you clearly.

"I can't let you die!"

Choked up with emotion, voice cracking from the conviction.

"I need you!"

Grip tightening to the point of pain, eyes wildly searching for something inside you.

"I'll keep you safe, no matter what it takes."

Why? Why didn't he understand that you were safe? That you were better before he decided that you weren't? That his help was even worse than if he'd just left you alone?

His only job was to aid in the strengthening of your legs. The only healing he was meant to do was in your lower limbs.

How did it come to this? Why were you struggling to even move your wheelchair instead of learning to walk again?

Akaashi embraced you, tears wetting the top of your head as he whispered softly into your hair. You caught words here and there, all voicing his worries and distress.

"I think it's time for me to move in full-time to monitor your health, don't you?"

Note: I hope you enjoy! I love (positive) responses!