Chapter Text
It was cold.
Everything was too cold. Why was he cold?
The whirring of machinery was ever present in the back of his mind. There was a pressure on his chest, sitting heavily in his stomach.
Fear, that’s what this was huh? He could have laughed. Fear was the only companion he had these past few days. Its icy claws dug into his upper arm and back, slowly moving through his bloodstream.
Staring at the descending sheet of metal, counting the nicks in the otherwise flawless material, was all he could do to pass the time.
It wouldn’t be long now… but didn’t he say that ages ago?
It wouldn’t be long now, someone will rescue us.
It wouldn’t be long now, the time limit will end soon.
It wouldn’t be long now, the unholy song from the piano would eventually end.
It wouldn’t be long now, the next pieces are waiting for their turn in the game.
It wouldn’t be long now, I will win this killing game.
Sighing, he looked back towards the descending press, inches from his face.
Yes, it wouldn’t be long now, his masterpiece would finally come to pass.
A small smile formed on his lips, chasing the fear away for just a moment and replacing it with exhilaration.
He wondered if Shuichi would figure him out? The detective was one of the few people he felt could truly unravel the web of lies he placed.
He shivered as another cold chill passed through him. It was getting hard to differentiate the cold from the fear, the metal, and the blood loss at this point.
Ever closer, his impending doom marched towards him, the mechanics screeching in tandem with his thoughts.
He wished he had more time, but time waits for no man, and after what he has done, he bears no right to call himself human.
The agonizing cries of what were meant to be his friends from his memories mixed with the hydraulics to create a terribly beautiful song in his mind.
It was centimeters away now. His curtain call was rapidly approaching, and he played his part well. He was the perfect antagonist. There was nothing more he could wish for.
A tragic end to an equally tragic boy. He closed his eyes.
He was content.
For this was always how Kokichi Ouma’s story was destined to end.
…
…no.
His eyes flew open, the press millimeters from his face.
He didn’t want it to end like this. He was never meant to be alone, not when it truly mattered.
“You are alone Kokichi, and you always will be”
As those words echoed through his mind, Kokichi attempted to move, his drive to live overpowering his desire to win. However, it seemed the poison had finally taken effect, as his limbs would not react to his attempts at movement.
He wanted another chance, he couldn’t die here in a place like this.
All of a sudden, there was no more cold, only hot searing agony. The metal sheet pressed down on his face, shattering his skull before continuing pushing. It crushed every bone and organ as it continued on its path.
Hot blazing fire seeped from the wound that had once been his body. Agonizing suffering eventually brought to an end as the metal finally reached its final destination. There were no more pleas from under the press.
However, maybe there was someone listening after all. Perhaps some god took pity on the poor boy and gave him his desire. Or more likely, something more sinister heard his cries and decided that he was interesting enough to get a second chance.
After all, the world is a stage, and Kokichi Ouma is nothing if not a great actor.