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In his room at the Team DR recovery hospital, a few months after waking up from their newest virtual killing game, Kokichi Ouma’s eyes snap open in fear and panic.
The ceiling isn’t the ceiling. His bed is a block of metal, so, so cold against his bare back.
Closer, closer, closer, the press is coming closer. It’s going to hit him, just like it did before. It’s going to crush him bit by bit until there’s nothing of him left.
Not again, not again, NOT AGAIN! He can’t do this again! He needs to get out. Out, out, OUT!
He leaps off the bed, trying to ignore how the ceiling is even closer to him now than it was before, how the chilly air bites at his skin. His vision flashes between the hospital room and that stupid, stupid hangar as he slides his feet into his slippers and sprints out of the room, not even bothering to close his door. He just needs to run .
He doesn’t stop running until he reaches the roof access stairwell, throwing open the door and climbing the steps as quick as his legs can possibly take him.
If he thought the air in his recovery room was chilly, he wasn’t prepared for the bite of the cold when he reaches the roof. It makes him wish he had been coherent enough to grab a blanket before coming up here, but it doesn’t matter. The cold is grounding, the sky stretches to infinity above him, speckled with countless stars twinkling in the light of the full moon. No cramped ceilings, no flashing LEDs, no hydraulic press going down, down, down.
He finally feels like he can breathe.
He lets out a deep sigh. Yet another sleepless night it seems. Ever since he stopped going to therapy after the first month or so out of the game, he hasn’t been able to get any more sleeping pills, and with the constant nightmares that cycle through his brain in an endless loop, it’s nearly impossible to find reprieve most nights. It seems like the only way he can ever rest anymore is by getting so exhausted that his body completely gives up on him, forcing him into the depths of slumber.
Unfortunately, he’s probably at least 3 more all-nighters away from reaching that point again. The sleep meds really had worked, but to get a refill on those, he would have to go back to therapy. Go back to those cramped rooms and those stupid doctors telling him to just be more social, as if the thought of talking to any of the others didn’t cause a pain in his chest.
And that was the last thing he was going to do.
He walks across the rooftop to sit near the edge, bringing his knees to his chest to try to conserve heat as he turns his eyes to the sky. This has always been his favorite place to go when the thoughts become too loud. It reminds him of family. Of climbing on the roof of an old rickety house. It reminds him of warm blankets, and checkered pajamas. Of eating junk food while making their own constellations, warm bodies nestled together in the moonlight. It reminds him of being loved.
It reminds him of DICE.
But they aren’t real. They never were real. Just another tragic backstory point in the character he’s become. The nothingness his past self made him into.
He reaches up to his neck to grip a familiar checkered scarf, but it’s not there. It never was.
Kokichi Ouma was never a leader, despite how hard he tried to be. He gathered evidence. He used every trick he knew in those trials. He made deals, and hacked the exisals, pretended to be the mastermind and turned everyone against him to try to unite them under a common enemy. To buy himself time to try to get them all out before the real mastermind made some sort of drastic move. But it didn’t work.
Did anything even matter in the end? Did this Kokichi Ouma ever even make a difference?
How could he call himself a leader if he couldn’t even do anything to save the people he cared about?
Because in the end, despite all the teasing, the jokes and the names and the mastermind plan, he cared about everyone. He considered them friends even if that title wasn’t mutual. All he wanted to do was help everyone get out.
Some good that did.
He’s snapped out of his spiral by the sound of the roof door clicking, immediately freezing up and turning around to see who dares to interrupt his regularly scheduled moping time. He’s greeted with the sight of dark teal hair and sparkling golden eyes. Pale arms holding a fluffy blanket and a bowl of…Cheez-Its?
Shuichi. Of course it’s Shuichi. Stupidly smart, wonderful, pretty Shuichi. One of the only people who seemed to actually enjoy his presence in the game (for the most part anyway). The only one who wanted to actually get to know him.
The one he had to go and fall in love with.
Of all people to find him here, it just had to be him.
“Umm…hi,” Shuichi says with a sheepish smile. He seems to be at a loss for what to do for a moment before he looks back down at the bundle in his hands. “I uh…brought a blanket and some snacks. You weren’t at dinner tonight so I…”
Stupid perfect Shuichi and the way he makes Kokichi want to immediately cave and let him in. To take down every single wall he’s ever had just to see that smile again.
Kokichi hates how weak he is for this man.
“Well don’t just stand there,” he quips. “I don’t bite…usually.” He attempts to put his signature peppiness into his voice, but it doesn’t work. He’s much too tired to pretend right now.
He turns his gaze back to the sky without another word. Eventually he hears footsteps approach from behind, and sees Shuichi sit down beside him out of the corner of his eye.
Kokichi can feel the warmth radiating off him, and it takes every ounce of strength left in his exhausted body not to slump against him and steal some of that warmth for himself. He needs to keep at least a shred of dignity intact.
Neither of them speak for what seems like a lifetime. Shuichi slips the blanket over his shoulders, passing the bowl of Cheez-itz into his lap. Kokichi immediately shoves a handful into his mouth, grateful for a distraction from whatever the hell is currently happening. He didn’t even notice how hungry he actually was until Shuichi mentioned it. Eventually, he feels like he needs to break the tension.
“How did you know I was up here?” He asks, shoving another handful of the crackers into his mouth.
“You’re not really as subtle as you think you are.” Shuichi says with a half-hearted chuckle. “I don’t exactly go to bed very early. I’ve seen you sneak up here before.”
“So Saihara-chan has been stalking me, huh?” Kokichi looks at him with a sly grin.
“What? No! I just…” Shuichi stammers. “I didn’t want to pressure you to talk or anything, because you clearly come up here for a reason, but…” He trails off, turning his gaze towards Kokichi, a worried expression on his face.
Kokichi decides he really does not like it when Shuichi looks at him like that.
“I was walking back to my room after staying up late with Kaede and I…” Shuichi trails off, as if he’s trying to figure out how to word his next sentence correctly.
“Just spit it out, Saihara-chan.” The sooner this conversation ends, the better.
“Your door was wide open. You usually close it.” Shuichi raises a hand to his chin, as if he’s deep in thought. “I didn’t want to invade your privacy by going in, but I noticed your sheets were thrown all over the place like you had left in a rush. I figured you had come up here.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re brilliant at deduction,” Kokichi scoffs. “Still doesn’t explain why you followed me up here this time.”
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” Shuichi mutters. “I’m worried about you, you know. Everyone is.”
You shouldn’t be .
“Why shouldn’t we be?”
Shoot. Had he seriously said that out loud?
“Kokichi, do you really think that we shouldn’t be worried about you? Of course we are! It’s been weeks since anyone saw you for more than about 5 minutes. You never come to group therapy or to meals anymore.” Shuichi looks back at him, eyes full of something he can’t quite place. Kindness? Pity? He doesn’t deserve any of it. Doesn’t want any of it. “It’s not the same without you there, you know?”
Kokichi feels something inside him snap. “It’s never going to be the same , Shuichi.”
“What?”
“It’s not the same as what? As in the game? The game where we were forced to betray and kill and die and condemn our friends to their deaths? That game?” His voice raises against his will. He doesn’t want to shout, but it seems his mouth has other plans. “It’s never going to be the same as those first days when we were all happy go-lucky eating Kirumi’s breakfast together, making plans to escape. It’s never going to be the same as it was before Rantaro was killed.”
He turns back towards Shuichi, expression hardening into a glare. “You know it’s never going to be the same as it was, Shuichi. Don’t pretend like you don’t.”
Shuichi turns his head away from him, looking almost sheepish. “But isn’t it better to at least try?”
“What?”
“I know it’s never going to be the same, Kokichi. Trust me, I do. It’s only been a few months. People are still hurting. They might always be hurting.” He turns back, and Kokichi feels like those gold eyes are staring right through him. “But we’re all here for each other. We all want to help each other get better. And that includes you too. You’re our friend, Kokichi. Despite what happened in that game, we all care about you.”
After a brief moment’s hesitation, Shuichi reaches out to intertwine their hands, and Kokichi really hopes the darkness is enough to hide his reddening cheeks. “We miss you. I miss you.”
Despite everything, Kokichi can’t help but chuckle. “Since when did you get so philosophical? Where’s that shy boy who used to hide under his hat? He was much more fun to tease.”
“What? I umm…” Shuichi goes bright red as he sputters, making Kokichi giggle once more. “I just care a lot about yo- about all of you guys. I just want to make sure everyone is okay.”
“And what about you?”
“Huh?” Shuichi gapes at him.
“You wax poetry about wanting everybody to heal and get along, but what about you, Shuichi?” Kokichi stares at his eyes, leaning just a bit too much into his personal space. “How are you doing?”
Shuichi seems to be at a loss for words, and Kokichi thinks he’s hit the nail on the head. Golden eyes trail back towards the horizon as Shuichi takes a shuddering breath. He doesn’t say anything else, simply just fiddling with the hem of his hospital gown.
“How about a little game, Shumai?” Kokichi leans towards him after a few moments. “I’ll tell you why I’m up here if you tell me the real reason you were up so late at night.”
Shuichi gawks at him. “How did you-?”
“You’re not exactly subtle either, Saihara-chan. I know you too well. Do we have a deal?” He holds out a hand for a handshake. It’s stupid, but it brings a small smile to Shuichi’s face regardless.
Shuichi shakes his hand. He doesn’t let it go. He runs a thumb over his knuckles, nodding at Kokichi slightly as if to give him the go ahead.
“I’m claustrophobic now,” he spits out, and it immediately feels like a weight is lifted off his chest. Shuichi gives him a soft smile and an affirmative squeeze of his hand, urging him to continue. “The ceilings are so small it makes me…there’s no ceilings outside.”
Another squeeze of his hand. Good job. I’m proud of you , it seems to say. He doesn’t want to admit how nice it feels. It’s too much. It’s not enough. He wants to say more. He can’t say any more. His throat feels tight.
“Your turn,” he croaks, hoping Shuichi doesn’t bring up how his breathing seems to stutter. Shuichi doesn’t, because he’s just perfect like that.
“You were right,” Shuichi starts, and Kokichi has to fight himself from letting out some sarcastic variation of ‘Of course I am. I always am.’ This is Shuichi’s time. “I wasn’t with Kaede, not tonight anyway. Sometimes I actually am with someone late at night, but this time it was just me.”
He turns his gaze slightly to the floor, not meeting Kokichi’s eyes. “I have trouble sleeping too. I think everyone does, but I like to stay awake until I know everyone else is at least in their rooms. I guess I still feel responsible for making sure everyone is okay. That they aren’t…”
Dead . The word goes unspoken, but they both know the answer.
“I just…so much happened at night in that game,” Shuichi continues, fiddling with that hem again. “If someone, anyone , had been awake then maybe…”
The silence spreads between them, stretching as infinite as the sky above. Kokichi doesn’t say anything, simply just nodding to Shuichi to encourage him to continue.
“I just feel like I still need to protect everyone. I was the leader. I beat the game. I got us out. I feel like everyone is looking to me for guidance, even if they actually aren’t. As long as everyone else is okay, I am too. I know it’s not healthy, but that’s how I feel.”
“Bit hypocritical of you to tell me I need to open up more when you aren’t willing to yourself, huh Saihara-chan?”
Shuichi chuckles dryly. “I know. But when I say I feel like I need to protect everyone, that includes you, you know? You’re part of our group too. I- we care about you.”
Kokichi chooses not to focus too long on those words, turning back to the sky again to avoid that sweet ever-knowing stare.
“Would you be willing to make some sort of deal?” Shuichi mutters.
“That’s a dangerous game, Shumai.” Kokichi shoots him a cheshire grin. “Are you sure you have what it takes to make a deal with the supreme leader of evil? I can’t promise you won’t spontaneously combust.”
Shuichi chuckles, eyes sparkling with amusement. “I think I can take my chances with that.”
“Then fire away, my beloved.” It’s almost amusing how easily the term of endearment rolls off his tongue.
“Would you be willing to promise me that you’ll open up just a bit?” Shuichi looks at him with that stupidly hopeful expression, golden eyes twinkling in the moonlight. “It doesn’t have to be to me, maybe one of the others, or one of the therapists. You don’t need to go to group, or eat meals with us every day. Not until you’re comfortable, of course. But could you at least try? Just some baby steps?”
Kokichi pauses for a second. Is that actually something he’d be willing to do? He won’t pretend that Shuichi’s hopeful expression doesn’t make him want to try. But…there is something he wants in return. “Well that depends on one thing, my beloved.”
“And what would that be?” Shuichi looks so hopeful, as if he’d do anything Kokichi says in a heartbeat if it meant he would try to open up more. It sends a pang through Kokichi’s chest.
“If I promise to start opening up, and trying to recover, you have to promise to stop trying to solve everyone’s problems.” He reaches up a finger to poke Shuichi’s chest. “You can’t carry so much on your shoulders, Shumai. Not when you’re hurting too. The others will be fine. You can help them if they ask you, sure, but you can’t help them at all if you don’t take care of yourself.”
“And you’re serious about this?” Shuichi sure looks serious. If Kokichi commits to this, he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to take it back.
He decides he doesn’t want to take it back.
“Dead serious.” Kokichi removes his hand from Shuichi’s chest to hold out a pinky, an amused smile on his face. “Let’s swear on it.”
“A pinky swear, really?” Shuichi giggles, reaching his own hand out anyways. “Don’t you think that’s a little bit childish?”
Kokichi lets out an exaggerated gasp. “I know you did not just call a pinky swear childish , Saihara-chan!” Shuichi snorts again. “It is a sacred, legally-binding contract of course!”
“Legally-binding, huh? Guess I gotta do it then.” Shuichi interlocks their pinkies with a smile, and Kokichi can’t help but feel the slight warmth that floods his face at the small bit of contact. He doesn’t want to separate.
Shuichi, it seems, doesn’t want to either, golden eyes flickering back and forth between their hands and Kokichi’s own eyes. If those honey irises land on his lips once or twice too, he doesn’t comment on it. It’s not the time.
The peaceful moment is only broken when Shuichi suddenly trembles in front of him. He quirks an eyebrow at his companion, delighting in the slight flush that fills his cheeks.
“It’s cold,” Shuichi mutters, looking sheepish. “I didn’t want to waste time looking for another blanket when I knew you were up here and hurting.”
Kokichi sighs, lifting the blanket off of one shoulder and stretching his arm towards the detective. Shuichi simply stares at him blankly, and he rolls his eyes with a smile he hopes doesn’t look too dopey.
“Bring it in, Shumai. We can share.” He tries not to let his voice quiver too much, lest it betray his inner panic at the thought of practically snuggling up to his crush all alone on a rooftop. He swallows. “Plenty enough room for both of us.”
Kokichi feels his heart rate spike at the utter delight that sparkles in Shuichi’s eyes at the invitation. He doubts Shuichi even notices how excited he might look from the other’s perspective.
His actual movements are much more reserved, shifting over slowly as though he’s approaching a scared animal. He takes the corner of the blanket from Kokichi’s hand, electricity shooting up Kokichi’s spine as their fingers brush together. He curls his long fingers around the fabric to bring it around his own shoulder, and finally , their arms bump, settling against each other.
Kokichi’s heart feels like a hammer in his chest, and it takes every ounce of his self-restraint not to lean into the contact. Then he simply decides Fuck it. How could this possibly get any worse? And settles himself comfortably against Shuichi’s torso.
Looking down, he realizes that their pinkies are still interlocked where their arms have settled on Shuichi’s knees, and he doesn’t make any move to separate them. Shuichi seems to notice them too, but he doesn’t say anything.
Instead, he intertwines the rest of their fingers together.
Kokichi’s heart beats like a jackhammer as he glances up at Shuichi’s face above him. His golden eyes sparkle with the light of a thousand suns, cheeks flushed a pretty pink and lips curved up in a wonderful smile.
He feels his own eyes flit towards those lips for a second before he decides against it. No, he’s not ready for that. Neither of them are. Another time perhaps.
They have all the time in the world now anyways.
He settles against Shuichi’s side with a content sigh, soaking up all the warmth and comfort that settles around him like the world’s warmest blanket, and for the first time in god knows how long, lets his eyes slip shut into a peaceful sleep.
– – –
The next morning, after waking up tucked into his own bed, and feeling more rested than he has in weeks, Kokichi walks to the dining hall for breakfast. The others welcome him as if he’d always been there, shooting him small smiles and affirmative nods. Miu gives him a sideways hug and ruffles his hair, whispering a small “Don’t let anyone know I’m actually glad to see you. I have a reputation to uphold, you little shit,” to him before sitting down next to Kaede. Kaito gives him a fistbump before taking his seat next to Maki.
And Shuichi…Shuichi just smiles at him, overwhelming warmth in those honey colored eyes, and pats the empty chair beside him. A plate of food is already placed there, his favorite, as if Shuichi knew he’d be coming. Or maybe he had just hoped.
Hope was a powerful thing after all.
He slides into the chair next to Shuichi, hoping his stance doesn’t give away how nervous he actually is. He feels Shuichi’s pinky intertwine with his own underneath the table, as if it’s second nature to him already.
Kokichi doesn’t mind getting used to that. Nope, not one bit. He can’t help but smile to himself.
He gives Shuichi’s hand a small squeeze. I did it. I’m here.
Shuichi’s grin stretches even further across his face. He squeezes back.
I’m proud of you.