AN: Some of the opinions expressed throughout the chapters (or the book) does not necessarily reflect my views. The general idea is to present something relatable.

___________________
___________________

Did I ever mention Yoongi likes to watch me eat?

He does. And he made sure I eat healthy.

Always.

Surprisingly, he did a good job at it while he acted like my personal dietitian, and the best part is - I didn't even have to pay him.

"Have you been eating well?"

I stopped scribbling in my notebook to look at Yoongi who was sitting across me on the backless stool.

Arms crossed, back straight and eyes on my form, he scrutinized me from head to toe as if looking for a flaw.

"I think I've been eating normally." Plopping my chin on my arm, I resumed writing without giving him a second glance.

"But you don't look like you're eating well." He raised a challenging eyebrow at me as if doubting the words I just uttered.

I bit the inside of my cheek as I looked at him directly for a second. Finally closing the notebook, I placed the mechanical pencil above it, keeping it on the edge of the desk before I straightened my back to face him completely. "And what makes you think that?"

"You look weak!" He motioned his hands up and down in front of me as if to point the obvious lack of fat from my body.

"I might have skipped a few meals here and there, but I assure you that's nothing. I'm fine!" I admit.

Tugging the corner of my lips upwards, I try to give him a small, convincing smile; but Yoongi looked unimpressed, making that all-too familiar poker face when something seems to bother him.

"You're telling me it's nothing?"

"What else am I supposed to say?"

At this point, I was frustrated - why is he even bothered about my food habits? My health issues should not be any of concern to him, but no! he has to go and make it his business.

"That you are eating well? I want you to look healthy." Yoongi stated as if he was stating the most obvious thing in the world. "And not like an anorexic piece of breadstick."

"Stop pestering me. I need to prepare for an exam." I looked past him at the clock.

Five o'clock.

He was supposed to be out of the shop by now, but he hasn't even moved an inch; sitting on the stool with a poker face, the one where he sets his lips on a straight line, which make his fair cheek muscles to tighten like round apples and makes it look as if they are begging to be squished.

"But that doesn't mean you need to starve."

"I'm not starving," I moved my hand through my wavy locks, combing them casually with my fingers and landing my attention on the desk in front of me, just because I found it difficult to meet his eyes. "I'm just skipping a few meals which has a better term for it and it's called 'dieting'. There you got your answer."

He frowned. "But why are you dieting now?"

"And why should I tell you that?"

"Look, I don't wanna force you into saying stuff, but as your well wisher I was just curious. Thus, the asking."

I remained silent, eyes finally meeting his for a moment which seemed to await for my answer, admiring it's patience as they portray the reflection on mine. "My friends think I'm ugly and that I should lose a few pounds." I sighed, putting air quotations around the word 'friends'.

"You're not ugly, society is," He shifted in his chair, sitting straight "Also, while you're at it do enlighten me - how is ugly related to being fat."

Not many people took interest in me when I came to Tokyo, but as soon as I got acquainted to some people, things started to change, in fact, my point of view around the whole concept has changed. And no matter how much I would try to convince myself that indeed I am beautiful, it all just dissipates like thin vapour when I see other pretty girls snickering at me.

"Try putting yourself in my shoes then you would know. Besides, I had to get rid of those flabby arms and double chin fat one way or another."

"Comparison is the killer of happiness." Yoongi said, placing the bucket hat on the table as he proceeded to ruffle his raven locks with his hand. "You're not even Japanese lest Asian so why bother accommodating to a different beauty standard?"

I let out a exasperated sigh, "I'm tired. So please just shut up and take your leave. You're way past your curfew."

He gave me an aggravating look.

"I could make an exception, but if you want me to go, I'll just go. But, that's not even the point. The real point is you're not making any sense with this whole dieting thing." Yoongi uncrossed his legs and stood up.

Grabbing his black bucket hat from the desk, he exited the shop without uttering another word.

I know I was supposed to feel bad that I rudely asked him to leave the shop, but I was not feeling the guilt yet.

Yes, I did feel all riled up when he started to question me about my food habits and health. But that shouldn't be any concern to him, right? I mean why's he even stressing so much with what I do. It's my own decision whether I choose to follow a religious diet or not. Besides, it's not like dieting is a bad thing. I'm just as concerned about my health as he is for me.

They say teenage years come with all sorts of changes and you're most likely to feel emotional ups and downs. But for the most part, I didn't. I was a little overweight sure, but no one in my neighbourhood or family pointed that out - perhaps, it's time to shed some pounds.

Why? Because there were numerous people like me around. And at that point, brown was just a colour to me.

I felt comfortable enough with my life at the time that I just complied silently to being a "plus girl" with bad habits that fostered acquiescence and continued to keep me knee-deep in dairy and gluten. But all of that changed when I decided to flee to Japan.

An overweight person may worry about what others think right? But when people judge you unfairly, it can make you feel like it's your fault.

My supposedly classmates happen to be all slim and pretty, as they would like to describe themselves, and I feel kind of insecure when I'm around them. Even though they did not say directly to my face that "I'm not pretty," but there were times when I felt left out, or rather they would leave me out. Times when they'll subtly throw hints about my complexion and my appearance. There were even times when they'll joke around, teasing me about my tanned, flabby arms when I'll go sleeveless or the slight bra bulge that would stick out when I would wear skin-tight tops.

I would act like I don't care but inside it hurts so much. And then the fear of being judged or rejected acted out and made me shy away from them and stopped doing things that I actually enjoyed.

I never really paid attention to my physique before because nobody ever pointed anything out. But Japan, being a temperate country, has people of several kinds, mostly with fairer skin and a metabolism that runs faster than the shinkansen itself. Not that I'm blaming them, but it feels kind of weird to know you're the only one out there trying so hard to fit in as yourself in your current form yet you cannot because you're born and raised in a way much different than theirs. And despite people acknowledging that, they would try to make you come around to their side of superior justification.

As much as I would like not to cut back on those carbs, I do want to look pretty. And in this toxic world - where people value conventional beauty standards more than their character - you can attain the pretty only when you're reduced to a white chopstick.

Funny that Yoongi who himself was keen on reducing weight admitted he likes a little fat on me.

The next day though something unexpected happened.

Something very un-Yoongi.

The bell above the door chimed as soon as the clock struck 12:36. Yoongi walked in stepping into my line of vision. His dark unruly hair contrasting perfectly with his white shirt paired with navy blue jacket and black jeans. A small black backpack hung loosely on his shoulder as he nonchalantly made his way towards me.

All the guilt that I was suppose to feel from yesterday stirred inside me and I instantly abandoned my cell phone to look up at him, giving him a small smile.

"Hey, I really didn't mean to say those words yesterday and I'm truly sorry for-" I started quickly but he interrupted my rambling by raising a hand in front of my face, stopping me from saying anything further.

"I know it's not my position to tell you this but I really like to watch you eat," I quirked an eyebrow at him as he continued. "I mean look at you.." he motioned his hand up and down to refer to my body, "...you look like a dehydrated, slim hippopotamus."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"In other words, you look like as if you will collapse any moment now. Have you eaten today?"

"No," I swallowed a gulp of saliva just as my stomach growled loudly and he chuckled. My cheeks started burning and I instantly moved my attention to the silver ring on my middle finger, finding it interesting all of a sudden.

"That's why to prevent you from shrinking any further than you already are, I bought food." He took out an air tight Tupperware from his black shoulder bag and placed it before me on the desk. "It's nothing fancy. Just two egg sandwiches and cherry tomatoes salad. I know it's not much but help yourself."

He motioned for me to open the lunch box, but all I could do I was stare at the transparent box full of food.

"Lately, you've been quite adamant on shedding a few pounds, and let me tell you - I'm not against it, but I just think you should do it in a much healthier way."

I studied him for a moment because it was strange to think he would do something like this for me.

"And would you stop looking at me like that? It's really creeping me out." Yoongi rubbed the back of his ears as a fresh red tint began to form on his white cheeks.

And, of course, after hearing that confession, my face broke into the largest grin it could form.

It was a first.

First, in the sense a guy making food for me all because he was concerned about my health, and he looked so cute while saying that and maybe my inner self busted a few uwus on its own. I had the strong urge to squish his cheeks until they were strawberry red, but then again I had to restrain myself from doing it since he told me not to touch him.

"Do you want me to open the box for you?" But before I could utter anything, he grabbed the box and opened it, pushing it back to where it was in front of me.

"Aren't you gonna eat?" I asked, grabbing the first sandwich delicately with my fingers.

"No, I already ate."

"But I shouldn't be eating this. In fact, I shouldn't be eating anything at all." I breathe out, discouragingly keeping the appetizing sandwich back inside the box. "I'm fat!"

"Do me a favour and shut your mouth. You don't have to lose weight. If you look fine to me, you look fine to the world." Yoongi grabbed the sandwich, shoving it right in front of my face, urging me to take a bite.

"What are you waiting for? Eat!" He ordered, staring intently at me. And so I did. I opened my mouth, taking a small bite at first, slightly embarrassed that he was the one feeding me.

"But it's weird eating alone while you're standing across me."

"Do you want me to turn around and not watch you eat?"

"No, it's just...it would be better if you join me as well." I mumble shyly with my mouth full, taking the sandwich in my hand while he rubbed his hands on his jeans.

"But I'm full. Look at my stomach, it's turgid with all the digested contents." Yoongi said, pointing to his flat stomach which did not look turgid with all the digested contents in any way.

"Okay, but atleast have a bite? Even a nibble will do." I offered the sandwich, but he plainly ignored, instead picking a cherry tomato from the Tupperware, and popping it into his mouth.

"Only?"

"Yes. Now eat the sandwiches. You don't get to taste Min Yoongi jjang jjang man boong boong's homemade food everyday."

"What's that again?"

"Something I came up with long time ago. Kinda like a huge ass self-proclaimed nickname." Yoongi remains silent for a few minutes, staring up at ceiling as if reminiscing something. "Those sure bring back memories." He mumbled subconsciously, casting one sad smile.

"What kind of memories?"

"One that does not involve you."

And there we have the slyly spiteful Yoongi once again. I tried to keep my mouth shut, not bothering to utter another syllable.

"Looks like the sandwich have already started to restore your chubbiness." Yoongi started after a brief moment of silence.

"Wow that quick?"

"I told you, I'm a genius." He shrugged.

"Yeah, but you don't need to brag about yourself," I remarked with my mouth full, chewing the food like a cow.

"By the way, did you like the sandwiches?" Yoongi asked curiously, a hopeful gleam reflecting in his orbs.

"Loved it!"

And I truly meant it. Ever since coming to Tokyo I even forgot what sandwiches tastes like. The old landlady was a typical Japanese woman who knew nothing other than the traditional Japanese cuisines, and me being the lazy ass that I am, ate nothing except for tea and instant noodles. And just a few days ago, I had adopted a new diet method where I had to consume only air which also saved my money, but Yoongi being his stubborn self decided to break the routine with his small caring gestures.

"Okay, then I'll bring something new tomorrow again. How about Aglio e Olio with lots of garlic?" He plops his chin on his right arm as he watches me eat. His free hand tapping the wooden desk impatiently, waiting for my response.

Swallowing the chewed content in my mouth, I asked him. "Tomorrow again?"

"Oh yes, I've took it upon myself to feed you unless you're back to your original shape."

"You know that just melted my heart."

"Just shut up already!"

"Yoogz, you hurt me so bad." I teased, pretending to clutch the shirt around my heart and feigning pain while he gave me his signature repugnant expression.

"You seriously need to stop calling me names."

"But calling names is the best way to end to an argument," I said, munching happily on the sandwich.

I've been skipping meals, starving myself for like two long weeks to the point where I've lost my will to survive on food, but for some odd reason, this sandwich right here, makes me feel as if it's my salvation.

"But we are not arguing."

"Yeah, but I was just stating facts. You know, it might be useful in future." I said, shrugging my shoulders lightly as I finished chewing the last remains of the first sandwich.

"Point taken."

And that's how it all began. The beginning of the disappearance of my sharp jawline. Not that I was complaining. In fact, I believe every girl would feel happy if they were to be around Yoongi, or vice versa.

Despite me losing a few pounds over the next few weeks (kudos to cardio) what really made me glad was that Yoongi accepted me, accepted me in a way no other person did.

Sure, there would be pangs of jealousy and frustrations every now and then when I would spot a few exceptionally beautiful girls, but that negative, insecure feelings gradually seemed to decrease with the passing time; all credits to Yoongi and his "love yourself" lessons.

But most importantly he didn't judge me. He loved me for who I am. And that made me happy more than anything else.

___________________
___________________

AN: This chapter was not meant to offend anyone or any nationality in particular. Rascism and the level of beauty standards based on skin colour is very much in existence - be it in Korea, India, or any other western country, whether we would like to believe it or not. And, let's be real, body proportions is still considered to be a part of the beauty standards, especially in the east. If you wanna shed pounds do it in a healthy way, not by starving yourself. That's like giving yourself a taste of death everytime you skip a meal. Also, if you are going to read this with a prejudiced mind, then I can't help it. It's not the world that needs to change but us.

Shinkansen is the Japanese colloquial term for bullet train.

Btw, how cool is Chef Min Yoongi?

I want you guys to suffer with me thus, I'll leave it right here for your hungry eyes to feast upon -