I'm porting some ndrv3 fics over to SV from Ao3. These first ones were written last year from...
Hyacinthium's Ndrv3 Fics
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Oumasai Week Day 1
Hyacinthium
Writing about sad cannibals as we speak.
- Location
- Bedroom
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I'm porting some ndrv3 fics over to SV from Ao3. These first ones were written last year from 6-18 to 6-24, as part of a ship week for oumasai. There's some writers hindsight going on due to how different my writing is now and all but... I'm too lazy to edit them all into something better. You get to read old writing lol. Past me will pay for these sins himself, I suppose.
As a heads up, none of this will make sense unless you've finished New Dangan Ronpa V3. It'll pretty much spoil you really hard if you haven't too.
If you want to avoid sloppy writing then skip Oumasai Week.
Otherwise this particular series touches on child abuse/neglect, drug use, and minor canon compliant violence.
Summary: "They had been best friends as children, always playing, always watching Dangan Ronpa. Childhood friends up until a bit before middle school.
Shuichi has a lot of regrets."
Shuichi's bedroom is the same temperature year round. It has to be in order to protect both his merchandise and his computer. Shuichi himself doesn't really mind not having perfect temperature control otherwise, but right now?
Ouma Kokichi is happily munching a popsicle and shivering from it. In Shuichi's room. During summer.
Ouma has been 'sleeping over' with Shuichi for three days now, after a week of Shuichi suspecting that his home situation had deteriorated to the breaking point. It's awful, awful how the boy's parents could be so disgusting to the point of kicking out their own child.
Ouma hadn't even said anything either. Shuichi ended up cornering him after stalking him back to their favorite tree on the local park.
They had made a shoddy house there and called it Hope's Peak. Back when Kokichi- when Ouma still liked Dangan Ronpa.
But then Shuichi had gotten upset with him, for the crime of not liking it anymore…
It's probably his biggest regret. Especially now. Shuichi isn't sure he even likes Dangan Ronpa like he did a month ago, during auditions. It's hard to say.
Looking at his figures and at how Ouma avoids their painted gazes hurts. It's not Shuichi's fault and he knows that. But Shuichi remembers going over to Kokichi's house and thinking how wrong it looked. How the sunnier than the sun painted home had become like a hovel slated for demolition.
Shuichi's parents are still downstairs trying to sort things out. They've given up on Ouma's parents.
Kokichi stands up and tells Shuichi that he's going to grab another popsicle.
Shuichi's mouth thins.
His pajamas reveal Kokichi's too skinny waist for a split second.
He knows that Kokichi is either going to listen in or that the boy will be going into the attic to cry again.
Shuichi's hands fly to the Teruteru stress ball on his desk and squeeze. He lives for Dangan Ronpa on some level. He's signed up to die for Dangan Ronpa on some level. Ko- Ouma's parents had once had a great conversation with him over plot lines and-
And now Shuichi can only hear their sallow faces flap saggy lips and say, "If he won't join Dangan Ronpa for us, then we don't want him here anymore."
There had been more.
More as Shuichi's chest filled with a horror beyond TV branded Despair. Because he'd always laughed off the stories of This. This cornucopia of Those Fans, always netting a 'cool story bro', and Shuichi laughing on the internet. Now his ears are echoing with nonsensical but real sentences that seem like lies.
'Maybe we can just make our own fan killing game.'
Should be outlandish horror stories that you read for fun late at night. Fangan Ronpas happening irl, that would never be a thing these days.
'your son should join too'
Shuichi already had. The letter of either rejection or acceptance sits in his desk drawer. He wants to open it and he wants to burn it.
Ouma's parents looked more like corpses than the road kill that Shuichi had once posted to his vent account. He wants to look at his notebooks full of deaths and fun concepts, and then look up if they match any crimes. Not to have fun or laugh about people who commit crimes in a perfectly peaceful world. To wonder or see how many were committed by people so useless without Dangan Ronpa that they become monsters. Ouma's family is nonexistent beyond his mother and father.
Ouma Kokichi lived in a decade rotted tree house.
The one they made together.
For a week.
Shuichi grabs a box cutter out of a hollowed book, and his mini cutting board from behind his desk, hands shaking and steady all at once; Teruteru slowly gets stabbed into tiny bits and chunks and slivers.
Sluggish footsteps make pale hands scramble to hide the evidence that would make Kokichi feel scared.
He had thought that the bruises and injuries were the results of Kokichi being bullied.
Fuck, Shuichi can't help but see those walking corpses every time he thinks or says Ouma. When did that even start? He can't bear to do that anymore, and hopes he doesn't accidentally call Kokichi by his first name out loud.
Kokichi walks in with redder eyes and a new popsicle. He avoids Shuichi's gaze, but sits on the bed instead of the floor this time. The last time that Kokichi did that was when they were children.
Shuichi tries to smile, "Are you enjoying the… popsicle?
God, that was stupid.
Kokichi twirls a bit of his dyed ends. Shuichi remembers that Mrs Ouma liked a character with similar hair and feels like wrecking his room. He loves Dangan Ronpa still, and the sight of Kokichi suffering makes him feel dirty.
"I got accepted into the killing game."
His heart explodes. His heart rots. Shuichi's chest is becoming a huge meaty cavern with only scraps inside.
"Why would you lie like that?" Shuichi prays.
Memories of innocent childhood promises to get a Talent together flash through Shuichi's brain. They're both still so useless as far as Talent goes.
Shuichi has spent more time obsessing over Dangan Ronpa than he has practicing to earn a Talent.
All he's talented at is fanboying and-
Kokichi is so smart though, he could bounce back from this, he has a bunch of tiny talents! He could earn the right to become anything, and that's the only reason that Shuichi can find for Kokichi to join Dangan Ronpa. There's no way that Kokichi would join just to get into his shitty genetic donator's drug shack again. Shuichi would go as far to beg his parents or pay for Kokichi's rent. He would sell his personal collection of rare merch for it.
A month ago, that thought would be impossible.
A month ago would have a Shuichi that didn't cut and shred and burn his single leather bound book; a painstakingly handwritten collection of stories about Kokichi.
Shuichi's chest stabs itself at the remembered contents.
Mirrored in the wispy fantasies that Shuichi and his parents had heard from 'aunty and uncle'.
Disgusting.
He'd changed the names and posted a few.
Kokichi lets his grape popsicle melt down his fingers and onto Shuichi's rug. He stares at it and motions to his bag.
Slowly, numbly, Shuichi gets up and walks over to that single bag of basic necessities. He opens it up, and removes things. It's all normal. But Shuichi loves detectives of any sort and feels around. His attentive fingers soon find added on stitches.
Kokichi was always great at home economic classes. Shuichi still remembers the taste of perfectly subtle chocolate chip cookies, and the egocentric wish for Kokichi to have made them like that for him. That was before they'd started to reconcile. Middle school, when Shuichi started falling into Dangan Ronpa and began to look at Kokichi differently.
It's easy to find the best way to open the hidden compartment.
It's so fucking hard to look at the papers inside.
"They recording me acting and doing chess in high level tournaments. Faked my handwriting and sent it all in," Kokichi murmurs with zero breath.
But that stuff is just to get the address for the auditions.
Shuichi's eyes comb over the oh so familiar handwriting and immediately spot a dozen flaws. He's spent nights pouring over discarded things written by Kokichi. It's shitty mimicry and he can't believe it worked. There's not a hint of Kokichi's naturally round penmanship.
"You didn't have to go." he says. Frustrated feelings escape the pit spreading to his eyes and stomach. Shuichi hopes that Kokichi didn't flinch and is glad that they aren't facing one another.
"Saihara…"
But Shuichi refuses to look at Kokichi's face. Refuses to know that Kokichi must have the same dead look as his parents.
Did Shuichi ever look like that?
Does the memory of Shuichi looking like that exist as a recent thing inside of Kokichi's brain? Has Shuichi leered at Kokichi and made Kokichi remember his parents?
"do you know what its like to be ignored by everyone while youre parents call you worthless and dress you up in the middle of the night before telling you how pretty youd look bleeding out pink blood in front of fake friends in a fake world while your only real friend rejects you when you try to tell him"
Shuichi cries.
It's ugly, and there is snot, and yet; Kokichi does come over to hold him. Unlike Shuichi, Kokichi is still a good person.
They open up Shuichi's letter and gaze down at the big stamp saying accepted. It pairs perfectly with Kokichi's matching one, the big Despair Red letter grinning up at them next to a little Enoshima Junko's happy face. It feels like a brand.
They promise to stay together, this time.
As a heads up, none of this will make sense unless you've finished New Dangan Ronpa V3. It'll pretty much spoil you really hard if you haven't too.
If you want to avoid sloppy writing then skip Oumasai Week.
Otherwise this particular series touches on child abuse/neglect, drug use, and minor canon compliant violence.
Summary: "They had been best friends as children, always playing, always watching Dangan Ronpa. Childhood friends up until a bit before middle school.
Shuichi has a lot of regrets."
_
Shuichi's bedroom is the same temperature year round. It has to be in order to protect both his merchandise and his computer. Shuichi himself doesn't really mind not having perfect temperature control otherwise, but right now?
Ouma Kokichi is happily munching a popsicle and shivering from it. In Shuichi's room. During summer.
Ouma has been 'sleeping over' with Shuichi for three days now, after a week of Shuichi suspecting that his home situation had deteriorated to the breaking point. It's awful, awful how the boy's parents could be so disgusting to the point of kicking out their own child.
Ouma hadn't even said anything either. Shuichi ended up cornering him after stalking him back to their favorite tree on the local park.
They had made a shoddy house there and called it Hope's Peak. Back when Kokichi- when Ouma still liked Dangan Ronpa.
But then Shuichi had gotten upset with him, for the crime of not liking it anymore…
It's probably his biggest regret. Especially now. Shuichi isn't sure he even likes Dangan Ronpa like he did a month ago, during auditions. It's hard to say.
Looking at his figures and at how Ouma avoids their painted gazes hurts. It's not Shuichi's fault and he knows that. But Shuichi remembers going over to Kokichi's house and thinking how wrong it looked. How the sunnier than the sun painted home had become like a hovel slated for demolition.
Shuichi's parents are still downstairs trying to sort things out. They've given up on Ouma's parents.
Kokichi stands up and tells Shuichi that he's going to grab another popsicle.
Shuichi's mouth thins.
His pajamas reveal Kokichi's too skinny waist for a split second.
He knows that Kokichi is either going to listen in or that the boy will be going into the attic to cry again.
Shuichi's hands fly to the Teruteru stress ball on his desk and squeeze. He lives for Dangan Ronpa on some level. He's signed up to die for Dangan Ronpa on some level. Ko- Ouma's parents had once had a great conversation with him over plot lines and-
And now Shuichi can only hear their sallow faces flap saggy lips and say, "If he won't join Dangan Ronpa for us, then we don't want him here anymore."
There had been more.
More as Shuichi's chest filled with a horror beyond TV branded Despair. Because he'd always laughed off the stories of This. This cornucopia of Those Fans, always netting a 'cool story bro', and Shuichi laughing on the internet. Now his ears are echoing with nonsensical but real sentences that seem like lies.
'Maybe we can just make our own fan killing game.'
Should be outlandish horror stories that you read for fun late at night. Fangan Ronpas happening irl, that would never be a thing these days.
'your son should join too'
Shuichi already had. The letter of either rejection or acceptance sits in his desk drawer. He wants to open it and he wants to burn it.
Ouma's parents looked more like corpses than the road kill that Shuichi had once posted to his vent account. He wants to look at his notebooks full of deaths and fun concepts, and then look up if they match any crimes. Not to have fun or laugh about people who commit crimes in a perfectly peaceful world. To wonder or see how many were committed by people so useless without Dangan Ronpa that they become monsters. Ouma's family is nonexistent beyond his mother and father.
Ouma Kokichi lived in a decade rotted tree house.
The one they made together.
For a week.
Shuichi grabs a box cutter out of a hollowed book, and his mini cutting board from behind his desk, hands shaking and steady all at once; Teruteru slowly gets stabbed into tiny bits and chunks and slivers.
Sluggish footsteps make pale hands scramble to hide the evidence that would make Kokichi feel scared.
He had thought that the bruises and injuries were the results of Kokichi being bullied.
Fuck, Shuichi can't help but see those walking corpses every time he thinks or says Ouma. When did that even start? He can't bear to do that anymore, and hopes he doesn't accidentally call Kokichi by his first name out loud.
Kokichi walks in with redder eyes and a new popsicle. He avoids Shuichi's gaze, but sits on the bed instead of the floor this time. The last time that Kokichi did that was when they were children.
Shuichi tries to smile, "Are you enjoying the… popsicle?
God, that was stupid.
Kokichi twirls a bit of his dyed ends. Shuichi remembers that Mrs Ouma liked a character with similar hair and feels like wrecking his room. He loves Dangan Ronpa still, and the sight of Kokichi suffering makes him feel dirty.
"I got accepted into the killing game."
His heart explodes. His heart rots. Shuichi's chest is becoming a huge meaty cavern with only scraps inside.
"Why would you lie like that?" Shuichi prays.
Memories of innocent childhood promises to get a Talent together flash through Shuichi's brain. They're both still so useless as far as Talent goes.
Shuichi has spent more time obsessing over Dangan Ronpa than he has practicing to earn a Talent.
All he's talented at is fanboying and-
Kokichi is so smart though, he could bounce back from this, he has a bunch of tiny talents! He could earn the right to become anything, and that's the only reason that Shuichi can find for Kokichi to join Dangan Ronpa. There's no way that Kokichi would join just to get into his shitty genetic donator's drug shack again. Shuichi would go as far to beg his parents or pay for Kokichi's rent. He would sell his personal collection of rare merch for it.
A month ago, that thought would be impossible.
A month ago would have a Shuichi that didn't cut and shred and burn his single leather bound book; a painstakingly handwritten collection of stories about Kokichi.
Shuichi's chest stabs itself at the remembered contents.
Mirrored in the wispy fantasies that Shuichi and his parents had heard from 'aunty and uncle'.
Disgusting.
He'd changed the names and posted a few.
Kokichi lets his grape popsicle melt down his fingers and onto Shuichi's rug. He stares at it and motions to his bag.
Slowly, numbly, Shuichi gets up and walks over to that single bag of basic necessities. He opens it up, and removes things. It's all normal. But Shuichi loves detectives of any sort and feels around. His attentive fingers soon find added on stitches.
Kokichi was always great at home economic classes. Shuichi still remembers the taste of perfectly subtle chocolate chip cookies, and the egocentric wish for Kokichi to have made them like that for him. That was before they'd started to reconcile. Middle school, when Shuichi started falling into Dangan Ronpa and began to look at Kokichi differently.
It's easy to find the best way to open the hidden compartment.
It's so fucking hard to look at the papers inside.
"They recording me acting and doing chess in high level tournaments. Faked my handwriting and sent it all in," Kokichi murmurs with zero breath.
But that stuff is just to get the address for the auditions.
Shuichi's eyes comb over the oh so familiar handwriting and immediately spot a dozen flaws. He's spent nights pouring over discarded things written by Kokichi. It's shitty mimicry and he can't believe it worked. There's not a hint of Kokichi's naturally round penmanship.
"You didn't have to go." he says. Frustrated feelings escape the pit spreading to his eyes and stomach. Shuichi hopes that Kokichi didn't flinch and is glad that they aren't facing one another.
"Saihara…"
But Shuichi refuses to look at Kokichi's face. Refuses to know that Kokichi must have the same dead look as his parents.
Did Shuichi ever look like that?
Does the memory of Shuichi looking like that exist as a recent thing inside of Kokichi's brain? Has Shuichi leered at Kokichi and made Kokichi remember his parents?
"do you know what its like to be ignored by everyone while youre parents call you worthless and dress you up in the middle of the night before telling you how pretty youd look bleeding out pink blood in front of fake friends in a fake world while your only real friend rejects you when you try to tell him"
Shuichi cries.
It's ugly, and there is snot, and yet; Kokichi does come over to hold him. Unlike Shuichi, Kokichi is still a good person.
They open up Shuichi's letter and gaze down at the big stamp saying accepted. It pairs perfectly with Kokichi's matching one, the big Despair Red letter grinning up at them next to a little Enoshima Junko's happy face. It feels like a brand.
They promise to stay together, this time.
Last edited:
Oumasai Week Day 2
Hyacinthium
Writing about sad cannibals as we speak.
- Location
- Bedroom
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Summary: "Shuichi has a problem, in his heart, and it's one that starts with grinning bears and ends with a pair of purple eyes. He tries to figure it out before going to sleep. He almost gets close."
From the moment they woke up in the lockers til the Killing Game was announced, Shuichi has felt a strong and unnameable emotion in response to various things. The Monokubs, Monokuma, the mention of Ultimate Talents; the sight of Ouma Kokichi's face.
Ouma Kokichi's back facing him, his laugh.
Shuichi is aware of the possible implications of these seemingly baseless rushes. Their memories are, each one of them, missing. Fuzzy and or generally lacking. Stolen. They're kidnapped and drugged hard enough to have forgotten so much- and more too. The detective in Shuichi bristles constantly.
It's truly despicable, is the thought that comes to mind whenever Ouma so much as enters his peripheral vision.
Hatred is an unfamiliar feeling to Shuichi. At least in this kind of situation, because Shuichi certainly knows what hatred is like, knows what it's like to be hated the same way that he knows what love is like. His parents are distant but clearly live for him at times. Shuichi's uncle and aunt raise him as if he's their own son, and Shuichi has nothing but respect for them.
But the oddest thing happens.
Shuichi can't let himself remember their faces without feeling discomfort.
Then his mind will instantly jump to thoughts of Ouma. If Ouma is alright. It's just so strange. Why is Shuichi associating his family with Ouma?
Everytime that Ouma comes to mind, and stays there, Shuichi starts to get an elevated heart rate. It's similar to the feelings born from the killing game- but also more like the feelings Shuichi had for his first crush. She'd always make him chocolate chip cookies with only mild sweetness. Up until she had to move away. It's sad, but Shuichi can't even remember her name or face now. Just the bandages that she once had to wear. Purple and white checker print.
Akamatsu-san almost makes Shuichi remember that childhood crush, but it's Ouma again that shows up in his mind's eye.
Is it the scarf? Perhaps it's the boy's odd humor, or what Shuichi hopes is humor, because she used to be a bit like that at times too.
Shuichi hasn't thought of those cookies or that girl like this in years.
Maybe it's just what happens when you can't go to sleep at night. Shuichi needs to go to bed in order to investigate more tomorrow, but he's stuck. Stuck analyzing his no longer reliable emotions and memories. Does he hate Ouma Kokichi? He isn't even sure if Ouma deserves half the intense dislike that the others feel for him.
A pang of annoyance on Ouma's behalf.
Another problem when one considers how annoyed Shuichi gets with the Supreme Leader. Evil Supreme Leader.
And Ultimate Evil Supreme Leader, that's just a dictator, right?
Ouma looks nothing like a dictator. He wears a school uniform with motifs similar to a straight jacket. Except those childishly huge buttons. And the staples. And his scarf is also off.
Shuichi can not figure out why he thinks that Ouma isn't suited for such a Talent. Everyone has earned their Talent with hard work in addition to any inborn talent. That's part of what makes them Ultimates. It's why Shuichi feels so… fake. Even the others with non obvious clothing perfectly fit into their role.
He just looks generic, and feels undeserving, despite what others may say.
Akamatsu is too kind, really.
Shuichi turns over onto his side and tries to keep his eyes shut. For a moment, they actually seem to answer the burning need behind them.
Instead, he pulls out his Monopad and pulls up Kokichi's pro-
Ko… kichi's?
Eyes squeezing shut and mouth pulling into a soured frown, Shuichi tries to think about the others in the same way. That amount of familiarity and closeness. But he can't-
The detective just can't find the traction or feeling that lets him so easily think 'Kokichi'.
Attempting to think 'Kaede' makes him toss awkwardly and make sure to never do it again. It's like that for everyone. They're friends of sorts, maybe, but to try and use a first name basis of any sort feels wrong. Unnatural.
But not Ouma's name.
"K- Kokichi. Kokichi," Shuichi murmurs, and marvels at how the name just flows out like water.
His heart slowly speeds up and skips a lazy beat. It is nothing like the newer crushes, or flashes of admiration he's had, not at all like how he gets with Akamatsu. It almost feels slow like honey. Something that he'd read about for a case once, articles about the timeline of love and crushes. He'd mostly forgotten it all. The case itself is a missing piece of his puzzle.
Shuichi knows that memories mutate the more often you remember them, but each missing fragment is raw and sharp. It's nothing like a natural fog.
Was it not drugs?
Had Shuichi been in love with Ouma Kokichi, to the point… to the point that even a memory cutting thing couldn't make him fully forget it all? Is that the strength of those precious neuro chemicals racing around inside of him? An Ultimate Neurologist would be useful. Neuro chemist?
Shuichi throws his blankets off of his anxious body and forces his feet onto the floor.
Pacing, his mind continues its search. It's shockingly easy to try and figure this all out, now that the feeling has a name. Like something inside of his heart, more than some nebulous feeling, is driving him forward.
He hates the killing game to the point that it's easy to meet Monokuma's gaze. He loves Ouma enough to- to want the boy to look at him. Shuichi thinks of those comforting and warm cookies whenever Ouma talks.
They must have met. They must have known one another. Shuichi just can't figure out the how or why of it all.
And when he tries to figure that out it just makes his whole mood crash down.
Shuichi has been repeating this cycle of thought for two hours.
He might not love Ouma at all in any manner. He might hate him, maybe. But the idea of that fills him up with the feeling inspired by the killing game, pushing his thoughts to include it. Is the killing game somehow inherently related to Ouma?
The mastermind…
Shuichi wouldn't love the mastermind. Shuichi wouldn't possible help or assist someone who wants to run a murderous spectacle.
Yet, Ouma is starting to head down some awful roads with his words. Shuichi is well aware that much of that is, or started as, misinterpretation. He's seen humor used as a response to absolutely horrible things from any type of person under the sun. Shuichi isn't optimistic by any means, but he wants to consider Kokichi's words as-
Ah, again.
Shuichi stops walking a hole into his floor. Bedroom prison floor.
Perfectly designed for him, somehow. The shelves to put knick-knacks seems like something straight out of his room, where Shuichi would put things collected from thrift stores. There is even a bag to put gifts in. A place to buy or win gifts from.
Everyone is clearly stressed beyond the average or manageable means. The human mind is often shockingly resilient, not always in a good way, but perhaps some gifts would be mutually calming. Kokichi might like some teas, or a new scarf with color to it, comes the thought.
Natural, well worn inside of Shuichi's mind.
His heart clenches with the scent of Earl Grey and the taste of unending sugar.
Coffee is Shuichi's beverage. Growing up with his uncle made sure of that, and Shuichi prefers any other tea of any sort. Matcha sweets are alright. Sometimes, Shuichi will enjoy something very sweet.
That once a blue moon craving will be filled by grape panta, he attempts to tease himself. It doesn't make him cringe.
It makes him remember smiles and baking horrible round slabs with too much salt. It should not belong with Shuichi's past, but it fits right into his heart and the sea of freshly renewed emotions for a boy he's never met.
Standing still in the middle of his room. In pajamas.
Shuichi wonders and dreads.
_
From the moment they woke up in the lockers til the Killing Game was announced, Shuichi has felt a strong and unnameable emotion in response to various things. The Monokubs, Monokuma, the mention of Ultimate Talents; the sight of Ouma Kokichi's face.
Ouma Kokichi's back facing him, his laugh.
Shuichi is aware of the possible implications of these seemingly baseless rushes. Their memories are, each one of them, missing. Fuzzy and or generally lacking. Stolen. They're kidnapped and drugged hard enough to have forgotten so much- and more too. The detective in Shuichi bristles constantly.
It's truly despicable, is the thought that comes to mind whenever Ouma so much as enters his peripheral vision.
Hatred is an unfamiliar feeling to Shuichi. At least in this kind of situation, because Shuichi certainly knows what hatred is like, knows what it's like to be hated the same way that he knows what love is like. His parents are distant but clearly live for him at times. Shuichi's uncle and aunt raise him as if he's their own son, and Shuichi has nothing but respect for them.
But the oddest thing happens.
Shuichi can't let himself remember their faces without feeling discomfort.
Then his mind will instantly jump to thoughts of Ouma. If Ouma is alright. It's just so strange. Why is Shuichi associating his family with Ouma?
Everytime that Ouma comes to mind, and stays there, Shuichi starts to get an elevated heart rate. It's similar to the feelings born from the killing game- but also more like the feelings Shuichi had for his first crush. She'd always make him chocolate chip cookies with only mild sweetness. Up until she had to move away. It's sad, but Shuichi can't even remember her name or face now. Just the bandages that she once had to wear. Purple and white checker print.
Akamatsu-san almost makes Shuichi remember that childhood crush, but it's Ouma again that shows up in his mind's eye.
Is it the scarf? Perhaps it's the boy's odd humor, or what Shuichi hopes is humor, because she used to be a bit like that at times too.
Shuichi hasn't thought of those cookies or that girl like this in years.
Maybe it's just what happens when you can't go to sleep at night. Shuichi needs to go to bed in order to investigate more tomorrow, but he's stuck. Stuck analyzing his no longer reliable emotions and memories. Does he hate Ouma Kokichi? He isn't even sure if Ouma deserves half the intense dislike that the others feel for him.
A pang of annoyance on Ouma's behalf.
Another problem when one considers how annoyed Shuichi gets with the Supreme Leader. Evil Supreme Leader.
And Ultimate Evil Supreme Leader, that's just a dictator, right?
Ouma looks nothing like a dictator. He wears a school uniform with motifs similar to a straight jacket. Except those childishly huge buttons. And the staples. And his scarf is also off.
Shuichi can not figure out why he thinks that Ouma isn't suited for such a Talent. Everyone has earned their Talent with hard work in addition to any inborn talent. That's part of what makes them Ultimates. It's why Shuichi feels so… fake. Even the others with non obvious clothing perfectly fit into their role.
He just looks generic, and feels undeserving, despite what others may say.
Akamatsu is too kind, really.
Shuichi turns over onto his side and tries to keep his eyes shut. For a moment, they actually seem to answer the burning need behind them.
Instead, he pulls out his Monopad and pulls up Kokichi's pro-
Ko… kichi's?
Eyes squeezing shut and mouth pulling into a soured frown, Shuichi tries to think about the others in the same way. That amount of familiarity and closeness. But he can't-
The detective just can't find the traction or feeling that lets him so easily think 'Kokichi'.
Attempting to think 'Kaede' makes him toss awkwardly and make sure to never do it again. It's like that for everyone. They're friends of sorts, maybe, but to try and use a first name basis of any sort feels wrong. Unnatural.
But not Ouma's name.
"K- Kokichi. Kokichi," Shuichi murmurs, and marvels at how the name just flows out like water.
His heart slowly speeds up and skips a lazy beat. It is nothing like the newer crushes, or flashes of admiration he's had, not at all like how he gets with Akamatsu. It almost feels slow like honey. Something that he'd read about for a case once, articles about the timeline of love and crushes. He'd mostly forgotten it all. The case itself is a missing piece of his puzzle.
Shuichi knows that memories mutate the more often you remember them, but each missing fragment is raw and sharp. It's nothing like a natural fog.
Was it not drugs?
Had Shuichi been in love with Ouma Kokichi, to the point… to the point that even a memory cutting thing couldn't make him fully forget it all? Is that the strength of those precious neuro chemicals racing around inside of him? An Ultimate Neurologist would be useful. Neuro chemist?
Shuichi throws his blankets off of his anxious body and forces his feet onto the floor.
Pacing, his mind continues its search. It's shockingly easy to try and figure this all out, now that the feeling has a name. Like something inside of his heart, more than some nebulous feeling, is driving him forward.
He hates the killing game to the point that it's easy to meet Monokuma's gaze. He loves Ouma enough to- to want the boy to look at him. Shuichi thinks of those comforting and warm cookies whenever Ouma talks.
They must have met. They must have known one another. Shuichi just can't figure out the how or why of it all.
And when he tries to figure that out it just makes his whole mood crash down.
Shuichi has been repeating this cycle of thought for two hours.
He might not love Ouma at all in any manner. He might hate him, maybe. But the idea of that fills him up with the feeling inspired by the killing game, pushing his thoughts to include it. Is the killing game somehow inherently related to Ouma?
The mastermind…
Shuichi wouldn't love the mastermind. Shuichi wouldn't possible help or assist someone who wants to run a murderous spectacle.
Yet, Ouma is starting to head down some awful roads with his words. Shuichi is well aware that much of that is, or started as, misinterpretation. He's seen humor used as a response to absolutely horrible things from any type of person under the sun. Shuichi isn't optimistic by any means, but he wants to consider Kokichi's words as-
Ah, again.
Shuichi stops walking a hole into his floor. Bedroom prison floor.
Perfectly designed for him, somehow. The shelves to put knick-knacks seems like something straight out of his room, where Shuichi would put things collected from thrift stores. There is even a bag to put gifts in. A place to buy or win gifts from.
Everyone is clearly stressed beyond the average or manageable means. The human mind is often shockingly resilient, not always in a good way, but perhaps some gifts would be mutually calming. Kokichi might like some teas, or a new scarf with color to it, comes the thought.
Natural, well worn inside of Shuichi's mind.
His heart clenches with the scent of Earl Grey and the taste of unending sugar.
Coffee is Shuichi's beverage. Growing up with his uncle made sure of that, and Shuichi prefers any other tea of any sort. Matcha sweets are alright. Sometimes, Shuichi will enjoy something very sweet.
That once a blue moon craving will be filled by grape panta, he attempts to tease himself. It doesn't make him cringe.
It makes him remember smiles and baking horrible round slabs with too much salt. It should not belong with Shuichi's past, but it fits right into his heart and the sea of freshly renewed emotions for a boy he's never met.
Standing still in the middle of his room. In pajamas.
Shuichi wonders and dreads.
Oumasai Week Day 3
Hyacinthium
Writing about sad cannibals as we speak.
- Location
- Bedroom
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Summary: "Kokichi is happily living his life with his family-friends in a family friendly world where nothing ever goes horribly wrong, and his brain works perfectly fine. But that's just make believe. Kokichi lies. Kokichi never lies.
T F?"
False because?:
Kokichi is in bed on his side.
His room is a mess and Kokichi is not dancing. Kokichi is damp from a shower. Perfectly identical white outfits are strewn across the floor along with an occasional black cape. A smashed black hat rests somewhere, maybe.
Kokichi is not happy, nor does he hate anyone, and Kaede was brutally murdered in front of everyone.
Conclusion; False.
Lying again. Always with the lying. Set yourself on fire already, you worthless brat. Why won't you do anything right? Just leave already.
Purple hair gets tugged and twirled around deathly pale fingers.
The fabric of the sheets. The taste of cool air. Feelings of chill making it to bare feet. The sight of blood and asphyxiation staining itself behind Kokichi's dry eyes. None of it adds up to feeling like part of reality.
But Kokichi's eyes are leaking and he rubs them again. Lying.
Truth? is?:
Lying keeps people safe from anything that they can lying about, so long as they don't really believe their own lies. Lying is horrible and poisonous to any and everyone. White lies help people continue living in an otherwise cruel reality. Falsehoods are capable of changing the truth into something different. Deceit can be the most gentle option from someone's point of view, but then end up hurting everyone around them, so it's bad to lie. Dying while believing a kind lie is superior.
Con? Clu? Sion?
Kokichi wakes up to an alarm, it's a normal school day, and he wakes up early because some DICE members need help getting started for the day. Tough and gentle love both dictate that someone must provide assistance. Wakes up early because then he will be able to leave early?
It's been so long since they moved here. Kokichi really loves their neighbors. Even if Hoshi and Toujou had to move away.
No, Kokichi wakes up not at all because he could only drift in and out of sleep. He smiles into the mirror full of facial paint, looks at his faux lively purple hair as if it works, as if his lies work. Purple eyes flutter open and judge him far too independently.
Is this thusly a lie, wonders a small and listless boy. The boy looks at his reflection and knows that he does not recognize all that is there.
Toujou recently murdered Hoshi and then was executed like she deserved.
At breakfast there is silence and no one talks about cheering on a killer just because of her apparent position. Kokichi can't understand. If he did something like that then he'd want DICE to hunt him down and lynch him.
Hurting people is awful. Murder is illegal. Suicide is a choice and yet, Kokichi gets sick thinking about it, and he doesn't believe the idea that Hoshi allowed it. Not from the start or to the finish.
How ironic that the government killed a child.
But Kokichi is a liar.
Truth is?:
Kokichi watches the Detective talk quietly. Kokichi has never watched the Detective before, but he dislikes him.
A Detective should not be friends with a cold hearted contract killer. A Detective should be logical if warm, yet not so much as to cling onto someone like Momota. The kind of person that punches mourning strangers, that trivializes countless murders committed for money, who yells and then cycles back to smiling 'kindness'. It's disgusting to watch everyone become dependant on Saihara when the boy is worthless at his core. Weak. The boy with his grossly dull brown-yellow eyes is weak.
Kokichi hates him and knows that Saihara would never bother to try.
Conclusion; False.
The floor is painful. Kokichi can't even make himself move even though it's just a head wound. He's certain that he doesn't have a concussion. But something in his body is screaming at him to stay still, and lay limp, in his pile of bloody mistakes.
Why did he even decide to investigate so actively? To improve Saihara's impression of him?
That's like baking cookies for someone who abandoned you.
Like sucking up to people who waste their banks into dry moats full of syringes. Mysterious tablets and packets full of powders while the TV plays. Block it out by turning that weak rusty shower on, because they won't let you leave. Like getting a nice big look at the mold in the bathtub. Like sneaking away at night to scrub and scrub away the filth, in a public bathhouse way past closing time, owned by an old couple that knows and doesn't have any expectations beyond ever present bruises.
Like-
Statement: ;flqs+DGo
Truth is: I refuse to.
Conclusion; This isn't real.
"K- Ouma-kun?!" a voice shouts out and echoes into Kokichi's skull.
There's the possibility that getting up is safe. Kokichi could spring up and yell that he's lying. By lying about lying, Kokichi can regain power and become safer. And yet, that's still a lie.
Footsteps plunge down towards him. At first they are hesitant, then racing onwards, and then a second pair gives in. Kokichi doesn't care.
A lie.
No one could possibly be about to help him.
Only nothing is safe here. There is no-where and no-person safe for Ouma Kokichi to be-with. He can try as hard as he wants to open his mouth up along with his heart, but Kokichi can only tell more lies, or horrible truths. Even if he tries to tell mostly good lies that help people, lies are always going to be repulsive things. Kokichi will always be what Kirumi called him.
But the truth is that Kokichi never really lies to himself. He barely accepts his current reality.
Kokichi just plays pretend in the sanctity of his own mind.
He never believes it.
Hands that shouldn't be familiar grip his collapsed body. He struggles against them and entertains the alternative interpretation that it's not because of an instinctual fear. Soft gold eyes stare down of Kokichi with naked concern that melts right through. Through.
Kokichi lets Shuichi and Harukawa carry him, giving faux happy instructions for when they finally grab his hidden cache of goodies. It's not ideal for the two to even know about them. But Kokichi doesn't want to bleed more.
They sit him down on the floor like a sack of potatoes.
"Clean off the blood before you sterilize!" he tells them. The loudness of the words makes him cringe.
Quietness is weak though.
He snatches his put together kit from Saihara and pulls out the sewing parts, putting them to the side. A 'sterile' cloth gets shoved into Saihara's frozen hand as an apology. Homemade saline and some random antibiotic stuff in a tube get placed down, along with thin bandages, and some painkillers. They have to be fast. Kokichi has to be fast.
Cool water gets mixed with a mild soap in a large water bottle.
Kokichi takes the second water bottle and swallows four pain pills before tossing the bottle into his kit. Shuichi frowns at him but remains silent.
"Beloved, be a dear and help clean off my face while I put pressure on the cut," Kokichi says. It's more a command than anything.
Harukilly stands up and goes to watch for any other murderers planning to show up.
Saihara switches sides and does as he's told with an almost frightening intensity. Eyes gleaming. It's all so very much a look of concern, a raw emotion pouring out from somewhere within the Ultimate Detective. His hands provide a firm and gentle heaviness as they cleanse Kokichi's face of blood.
Kokichi fears it to be a lie.
His entire body is yearning for it to be the truth. Everything else that he doubts could turn out to be a lie, but so long as this show of worry remained real…
Another slow pass of wet cloth. Shuichi runs the soapy water along-
Shuichi?
He grumbles, "Take that rag off of me now and stop giving my face an old person bath."
Saihara says something. Maybe, but Kokichi's head hurts so much. He didn't take any pills yet, that was a lie.
"Kokichi…"
False because:
Shuichi's eyes dilate and he looks away. Kokichi closes his own eyes and ears and takes deep breaths. It's a mistake. They are still mere strangers.
Kokichi never catches Shuichi staring at him due to staring at Shuichi. He doesn't dream about crying into a dull colored Shuichi's chest at night, sick on eating nothing but popsicles, in a house big enough for at least two families. There was no mix of jealousy-resentment-affection-relief. There is no wanting anxiety and no please hold me again.
Conclusion; Lying even more.
"I'm sorry that I forgot. I still can't remember either," one of them says as if Harukawa isn't right there.
Smiling, Kokichi says the truth that he has no words for. He's not sure if Shuichi actually understands it. It could be a lie to say that this 'Saihara Shuichi' is the one that these words belong to. They might not even belong to 'Ouma Kokichi', either. Yet, they still managed to remain unspoken inside of Kokichi's heart.
"I forgive you." I missed you.
Truth:True;
Shuichi's eyes meet Kokichi's eyes throughout the third trial.
The pills that Shuichi shook into his hands barely dull the pain. Kokichi's steady self stitching tugs at skin and itches, but more than that is the feeling of the sight of- honest joy and relief.
It feels like finding home when they expose the murderer, together.
T F?"
_
Kokichi spun around and around inside of his empty room. It had been two days since Kaede was found dead in the girl's bathroom and Kokichi's room was gloriously neat and tidy. He had shoved his so kindly provided furnishings items onto one single spot and decided to dance, for hours. It's understandable, considering just how much Kokichi hates her.
False because?:
Kokichi is in bed on his side.
His room is a mess and Kokichi is not dancing. Kokichi is damp from a shower. Perfectly identical white outfits are strewn across the floor along with an occasional black cape. A smashed black hat rests somewhere, maybe.
Kokichi is not happy, nor does he hate anyone, and Kaede was brutally murdered in front of everyone.
Conclusion; False.
Lying again. Always with the lying. Set yourself on fire already, you worthless brat. Why won't you do anything right? Just leave already.
Purple hair gets tugged and twirled around deathly pale fingers.
The fabric of the sheets. The taste of cool air. Feelings of chill making it to bare feet. The sight of blood and asphyxiation staining itself behind Kokichi's dry eyes. None of it adds up to feeling like part of reality.
But Kokichi's eyes are leaking and he rubs them again. Lying.
Truth? is?:
Lying keeps people safe from anything that they can lying about, so long as they don't really believe their own lies. Lying is horrible and poisonous to any and everyone. White lies help people continue living in an otherwise cruel reality. Falsehoods are capable of changing the truth into something different. Deceit can be the most gentle option from someone's point of view, but then end up hurting everyone around them, so it's bad to lie. Dying while believing a kind lie is superior.
Con? Clu? Sion?
Kokichi wakes up to an alarm, it's a normal school day, and he wakes up early because some DICE members need help getting started for the day. Tough and gentle love both dictate that someone must provide assistance. Wakes up early because then he will be able to leave early?
It's been so long since they moved here. Kokichi really loves their neighbors. Even if Hoshi and Toujou had to move away.
No, Kokichi wakes up not at all because he could only drift in and out of sleep. He smiles into the mirror full of facial paint, looks at his faux lively purple hair as if it works, as if his lies work. Purple eyes flutter open and judge him far too independently.
Is this thusly a lie, wonders a small and listless boy. The boy looks at his reflection and knows that he does not recognize all that is there.
Toujou recently murdered Hoshi and then was executed like she deserved.
At breakfast there is silence and no one talks about cheering on a killer just because of her apparent position. Kokichi can't understand. If he did something like that then he'd want DICE to hunt him down and lynch him.
Hurting people is awful. Murder is illegal. Suicide is a choice and yet, Kokichi gets sick thinking about it, and he doesn't believe the idea that Hoshi allowed it. Not from the start or to the finish.
How ironic that the government killed a child.
But Kokichi is a liar.
Truth is?:
Kokichi watches the Detective talk quietly. Kokichi has never watched the Detective before, but he dislikes him.
A Detective should not be friends with a cold hearted contract killer. A Detective should be logical if warm, yet not so much as to cling onto someone like Momota. The kind of person that punches mourning strangers, that trivializes countless murders committed for money, who yells and then cycles back to smiling 'kindness'. It's disgusting to watch everyone become dependant on Saihara when the boy is worthless at his core. Weak. The boy with his grossly dull brown-yellow eyes is weak.
Kokichi hates him and knows that Saihara would never bother to try.
Conclusion; False.
The floor is painful. Kokichi can't even make himself move even though it's just a head wound. He's certain that he doesn't have a concussion. But something in his body is screaming at him to stay still, and lay limp, in his pile of bloody mistakes.
Why did he even decide to investigate so actively? To improve Saihara's impression of him?
That's like baking cookies for someone who abandoned you.
Like sucking up to people who waste their banks into dry moats full of syringes. Mysterious tablets and packets full of powders while the TV plays. Block it out by turning that weak rusty shower on, because they won't let you leave. Like getting a nice big look at the mold in the bathtub. Like sneaking away at night to scrub and scrub away the filth, in a public bathhouse way past closing time, owned by an old couple that knows and doesn't have any expectations beyond ever present bruises.
Like-
Statement: ;flqs+DGo
Truth is: I refuse to.
Conclusion; This isn't real.
"K- Ouma-kun?!" a voice shouts out and echoes into Kokichi's skull.
There's the possibility that getting up is safe. Kokichi could spring up and yell that he's lying. By lying about lying, Kokichi can regain power and become safer. And yet, that's still a lie.
Footsteps plunge down towards him. At first they are hesitant, then racing onwards, and then a second pair gives in. Kokichi doesn't care.
A lie.
No one could possibly be about to help him.
Only nothing is safe here. There is no-where and no-person safe for Ouma Kokichi to be-with. He can try as hard as he wants to open his mouth up along with his heart, but Kokichi can only tell more lies, or horrible truths. Even if he tries to tell mostly good lies that help people, lies are always going to be repulsive things. Kokichi will always be what Kirumi called him.
But the truth is that Kokichi never really lies to himself. He barely accepts his current reality.
Kokichi just plays pretend in the sanctity of his own mind.
He never believes it.
Hands that shouldn't be familiar grip his collapsed body. He struggles against them and entertains the alternative interpretation that it's not because of an instinctual fear. Soft gold eyes stare down of Kokichi with naked concern that melts right through. Through.
Kokichi lets Shuichi and Harukawa carry him, giving faux happy instructions for when they finally grab his hidden cache of goodies. It's not ideal for the two to even know about them. But Kokichi doesn't want to bleed more.
They sit him down on the floor like a sack of potatoes.
"Clean off the blood before you sterilize!" he tells them. The loudness of the words makes him cringe.
Quietness is weak though.
He snatches his put together kit from Saihara and pulls out the sewing parts, putting them to the side. A 'sterile' cloth gets shoved into Saihara's frozen hand as an apology. Homemade saline and some random antibiotic stuff in a tube get placed down, along with thin bandages, and some painkillers. They have to be fast. Kokichi has to be fast.
Cool water gets mixed with a mild soap in a large water bottle.
Kokichi takes the second water bottle and swallows four pain pills before tossing the bottle into his kit. Shuichi frowns at him but remains silent.
"Beloved, be a dear and help clean off my face while I put pressure on the cut," Kokichi says. It's more a command than anything.
Harukilly stands up and goes to watch for any other murderers planning to show up.
Saihara switches sides and does as he's told with an almost frightening intensity. Eyes gleaming. It's all so very much a look of concern, a raw emotion pouring out from somewhere within the Ultimate Detective. His hands provide a firm and gentle heaviness as they cleanse Kokichi's face of blood.
Kokichi fears it to be a lie.
His entire body is yearning for it to be the truth. Everything else that he doubts could turn out to be a lie, but so long as this show of worry remained real…
Another slow pass of wet cloth. Shuichi runs the soapy water along-
Shuichi?
He grumbles, "Take that rag off of me now and stop giving my face an old person bath."
Saihara says something. Maybe, but Kokichi's head hurts so much. He didn't take any pills yet, that was a lie.
"Kokichi…"
False because:
Shuichi's eyes dilate and he looks away. Kokichi closes his own eyes and ears and takes deep breaths. It's a mistake. They are still mere strangers.
Kokichi never catches Shuichi staring at him due to staring at Shuichi. He doesn't dream about crying into a dull colored Shuichi's chest at night, sick on eating nothing but popsicles, in a house big enough for at least two families. There was no mix of jealousy-resentment-affection-relief. There is no wanting anxiety and no please hold me again.
Conclusion; Lying even more.
"I'm sorry that I forgot. I still can't remember either," one of them says as if Harukawa isn't right there.
Smiling, Kokichi says the truth that he has no words for. He's not sure if Shuichi actually understands it. It could be a lie to say that this 'Saihara Shuichi' is the one that these words belong to. They might not even belong to 'Ouma Kokichi', either. Yet, they still managed to remain unspoken inside of Kokichi's heart.
"I forgive you." I missed you.
Truth:True;
Shuichi's eyes meet Kokichi's eyes throughout the third trial.
The pills that Shuichi shook into his hands barely dull the pain. Kokichi's steady self stitching tugs at skin and itches, but more than that is the feeling of the sight of- honest joy and relief.
It feels like finding home when they expose the murderer, together.
Oumasai Week Day 4
Hyacinthium
Writing about sad cannibals as we speak.
- Location
- Bedroom
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Summary: "Kokichi hates the heat, and hates how gross sweat is, especially when he gets to walk home from work early. With only a sun parasol. He just wants June and summer to be over already. Wait, the apartment lights are off.
"Why the hell are the lights off?" Kokichi mutters."
"Why the hell are the lights off?" Kokichi mutters. "Don't tell me that Miu sapped everyone's power again… "
Kokichi glares up at his apartment. Technically not just his, because Shuichi and he had decided to pool together their winnings, and even managed to combined their five years of expenses free rent. They had then chosen the worst option of the lot to get extra bonuses. All of which were high quality to begin with. Dangan Ronpa pays well even when getting torn apart, was Kokichi's faux humored response. Especially when their legal obligations to do so are under intense scrutiny from literally the world.
Not that Dangan Ronpa even exists anymore.
A small drop of sweat runs down Kokichi's back, and it makes him feel gross. So gross, June is just too damn hot. He wants to get naked and shower before jumping into a refreshing bath full of cooling mint salts. After removing his many layers of sunscreen, of course.
Summer is just the worst.
At least the scarf that Shuichi got him last Christmas is some super breathable fabric, Kokichi muses. Cool in summer and warm in winter.
Just like the gift from in the show, too. It was absolutely something that Kokichi couldn't dislike in the slightest. 'Autumn Scarf'. Pink and soft at all times, Kokichi always feels better with it on him, and it looks nothing like the black and white one from the killing show. It isn't that he hates that scarf or anything. He just… didn't want it then and doesn't want it now.
Kokichi takes another glance up at the black windows of the apartment. Still no light that he can see.
Already tired legs ache as he prepares for that final home stretch from work. He loves the preschool, he really does, but damn if Kokichi isn't overjoyed that everyone was safely sent home early. That the entire building's air conditioning had started acting weird, just as a sudden heat wave hit, is still annoying. Trying to keep everyone cool with just cold drinks or the kiddie pools would have been such a disaster. He didn't blaze through multiple courses just to torture some children.
Of course, some passers-bys thought that Kokichi was the middle school brother of some kid he'd escorted home…
He mutters another curse, having been unable to while around students, and shuffles forward.
Kokichi makes it past the sliding doors, and immediately feels a rush of blessedly cool air wack him in the face. The doorman nods at him and Kokichi returns the acknowledgement with a small cheeky smile.
"O-oh!" says the kind old lady manning the front desk. At the sight of him, too.
"Am I that bad from the heat?" Kokichi groans.
Ogata giggles from behind her hand, glancing at her mounted SLim-Tablet. Even nearly three years post DR, seeing casual use of such technology weirds Kokichi out. Especially when otherwise solid looking tablets get rolled or folded up. By old people. Kokichi doesn't even want to think about the light shows that people his age use. Not to mention the younger generations.
Kokichi feels a bit cheated by DR always having early 21st century tier tech levels.
"A bit of sweat does a person good, I'd say. Anyway h-" Ogata cuts herself off after a cough from the doorman.
Kokichi raises an eyebrow.
Ogata smiles that old and knowing granny smile, before going back to that Canadian drama that she's obsessed with, something based on Sherlock. Wait, isn't Sherlock a British thing that happens in England? Shuichi talks about it enough for Kokichi to know that. Kokichi would never read some weird smelling old books! Ha.
Rubbing his shoe against the carpet prompts nothing but the feeling of sweat. Now cooling sweat. Fuck fuck ewwww-
"Right, conspiracy aside, I'm gone. I have a shower and bath in my future!" Kokichi says to the lobby and it's sparse inhabitants. A vacationer rolls his eyes before doing a sudden double take.
Kokichi sticks his tongue out and hops inside the elevator for permanent residents, still holding his security card.
A slow shamisen marks his ascent, access to his floor requiring another swipe of his residency card and also a pin code, but Kokichi is just happy to finally be home. Soon, shower. Then that blessed bath in that blessed tub.
Oh, and pull Shuichi in too! Kokichi smiles at the thought. There should still be some cold-brew coffee jelly or barley tea left in the fridge… Kokichi prefers tea, but the jelly made from the stuff out of their coffee machine is amazing. Miu always makes the best inventions, not that Kokichi would ever tell her, because then she might stop giving them free editions before the mini-inventions break into stores. Perks of living in the same building. Her Life Simplified series always takes the best of the 'future' and combines it with-
The elevator dings too fast.
Kokichi sighs and cradles his parasol as he trudges his way back home. It's not even that far down the hallway, but there's another electronic lock that will need his card and pin.
Also, he walked home in Japanese Summer Heat™. Such hell should be unknown to humanity.
Not the worst hell, aren't you just ungrateful? Comes the occasional remnant. Kokichi frowns but just rolls his eyes. He does all and more of the recommended post DR mental upkeep regimen. It's been years, and he'd never accepted those PRE-DR memories either. There were still the natural flashes and his personality had gone through the average post-season slide…
Pale peach hands, just barely still tanned from last week's beach trip, unceremoniously provide proof of residence to the tiny chirping box that everyone has on their door.
It's hard to have a day with no thoughts of 'anything'. That's why it's important to have any kind of day at all.
Kokichi pushes his way into the apartment and instinctually gets ready to take his shoes off.
But he pauses midway due to the fact that it's still dark as Korekiyo's in-game moral fiber. Kokichi squints past the entrance and cups a hand to his ear. Shuichi had made an almost suspicious point of taking off for the entire week, and he'd said that he'd be home all day too…
Had there been an emergency at his agency?
If the renovations had gone sour again then Kokichi might just go down there himself. His 'Talent' might be focused on children nowadays, but most adults are just kids and young teens in suits anyways. Kokichi had learned that in his freebie classes of psychology and debate club. And also parents. Oh God, the parents.
He slowly pulls his phone from his pocket. Finding the light button used to be hard, up until Miu made the thing function more safely and stop with the literal holographic pop ups. The rainbow-prismatic casing shifts and glows in the dark, casting a serene pattern again the umbrella stand. Kokichi's parasol gets carefully placed within the container. It shifts until leaning across Shuichi's more rain inclined umbrella.
Cute, he thinks.
He's glad that Shuichi bought the thing for him. Kokichi had been too antsy about buying something girlish.
Kokichi flicks the built in stand out and sets the phone down in order to put his bright green parakeet slippers on. Huge sparkling eyes look up and make Kokichi smile.
Then the man actually steps into the living room, causing lights to turn on.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" five people scream at him.
"You little sub, I can't believe you're only 5'2 at age 21!" Miu continues.
Kokichi glares up at her, "Excuse you? I am a preschool teacher, we do not do impure things. Think of the children!"
Miu wheezes and makes a remark about irony.
But his heart is too busy pounding in happy confusion. Birthday? Party? Kokichi's wide purple eyes dance around at brightly colored decorations, the exact amount of eye searing that he prefers. A good amount of lowkey lavender and silver backs it up.
Shocking bright yellow and salmon pink fills up Kokichi's vision.
Gonta is still in the process of pinning up a fancy 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU' along the kitchen cabinets, paused and grinning. Miu and Kiibo are badly hiding a pile of neatly arranged presents. Kokichi walks over to a balloon covered in Hello Kitty. He pokes it.
Then he looks over to Shuichi, who is pressed against the refrigerator. The Detective isn't usually one for looking suspicious in front of Kokichi.
But Shuichi looks like his internal sweat meter is off the charts.
He smiles, "Welcome back home, Kokichi. Would you li-"
"What kind of cake does that guarded refrigerator contain? Shumai?" Kokichi purrs as Miu feigns gagging to Kiibo. "What did you get me?"
Kiibo's flower painted prosthetics hurriedly work to cover up the present pile. Damn, Kokichi was just starting up at judging the sizes. At least Kiibo is wearing the lightweight set today, that daily jog of theirs would be hell otherwise.
Kokichi glances back to his nervous Shuichi.
The man is definitely- Oh, so that's why Ogata was acting weird. An actual conspiracy theory come true!
Giggles start up and trickle out of Kokichi's mouth like raindrops, small bits of laughter making the room seem brighter. Shuichi ends up joining him while Miu gives into her urges to make 'daaaw' sounds.
Sweat forgotten, Kokichi rushes over to hug Shuichi.
"Where is everyone else at?" he murmurs into Shuichi's chest.
Shuichi smiles and wraps his arms around Kokichi's waist. The warmth is pleasant despite the invading heat of summer.
"Out bringing home the dinner we all ordered, among other things. This was supposed to be a surprise you know," Shuichi says in a faux scolding tone. It make Kokichi nuzzle into him and sob exaggeratedly.
"Sooowwweee! The AC for the whole school died, we had an emergency meeting, and then I gave almost all my heat beating stuff to the kids. Everyone left early," Kokichi informs him. "And I walked some of the older kids from the adjacent elementary school home. So my backup backup stuff got given away too!"
He then sucks in wonderfully cold air as loudly as possible.
Shuichi kisses him.
Behind them, Gonta says something to Miu about Shuichi's gift. But Kokichi is pretty sure that Shuichi is gift enough.
"Did you get me something from that Indian place?" he asks and gets a slight grimace in reply.
Delicious. Spicy food is just so great even in summer. Giving the spice intolerant Shuichi some burning kisses is even better! Ah, Kokichi hopes that Shuichi ordered him the hottest thing possible.
Hope…
Shuichi would probably twitch at hearing the word, and normally Kokichi would too, but he can't help but feel hopeful right now.
"Ah fuck, the wrapping on my custom bath bomb maker got fucked!" Miu yells.
Then she freezes as everyone groans.
Except for Kokichi, who is too busy mimicking the happy noises that his class likes to makes when he still comes in on his days off.
By the time 'everyone else' shows up. Kokichi has gotten his way into Kiibo's gift of rare dark chocolate truffles. There is a bowl of coffee jelly and barley tea, all being munched on by Kokichi's ravenous mouth. The sight makes Rantaro groan and Kirumi laugh, but as people file into the suddenly cramped apartment, it's Kokichi who is shocked the most.
"Everyone is actually everyone?" Kokichi murmurs, watching as Kaito helps set up the dinner situation. "Everyone really made it to my birthday…"
Shuichi smiles and pats his shoulder.
If Kokichi has a hint of mist in his eyes, no one says anything.
"Why the hell are the lights off?" Kokichi mutters."
_
A sun parasol folds up and gets tapped against hot sidewalk.
"Why the hell are the lights off?" Kokichi mutters. "Don't tell me that Miu sapped everyone's power again… "
Kokichi glares up at his apartment. Technically not just his, because Shuichi and he had decided to pool together their winnings, and even managed to combined their five years of expenses free rent. They had then chosen the worst option of the lot to get extra bonuses. All of which were high quality to begin with. Dangan Ronpa pays well even when getting torn apart, was Kokichi's faux humored response. Especially when their legal obligations to do so are under intense scrutiny from literally the world.
Not that Dangan Ronpa even exists anymore.
A small drop of sweat runs down Kokichi's back, and it makes him feel gross. So gross, June is just too damn hot. He wants to get naked and shower before jumping into a refreshing bath full of cooling mint salts. After removing his many layers of sunscreen, of course.
Summer is just the worst.
At least the scarf that Shuichi got him last Christmas is some super breathable fabric, Kokichi muses. Cool in summer and warm in winter.
Just like the gift from in the show, too. It was absolutely something that Kokichi couldn't dislike in the slightest. 'Autumn Scarf'. Pink and soft at all times, Kokichi always feels better with it on him, and it looks nothing like the black and white one from the killing show. It isn't that he hates that scarf or anything. He just… didn't want it then and doesn't want it now.
Kokichi takes another glance up at the black windows of the apartment. Still no light that he can see.
Already tired legs ache as he prepares for that final home stretch from work. He loves the preschool, he really does, but damn if Kokichi isn't overjoyed that everyone was safely sent home early. That the entire building's air conditioning had started acting weird, just as a sudden heat wave hit, is still annoying. Trying to keep everyone cool with just cold drinks or the kiddie pools would have been such a disaster. He didn't blaze through multiple courses just to torture some children.
Of course, some passers-bys thought that Kokichi was the middle school brother of some kid he'd escorted home…
He mutters another curse, having been unable to while around students, and shuffles forward.
Kokichi makes it past the sliding doors, and immediately feels a rush of blessedly cool air wack him in the face. The doorman nods at him and Kokichi returns the acknowledgement with a small cheeky smile.
"O-oh!" says the kind old lady manning the front desk. At the sight of him, too.
"Am I that bad from the heat?" Kokichi groans.
Ogata giggles from behind her hand, glancing at her mounted SLim-Tablet. Even nearly three years post DR, seeing casual use of such technology weirds Kokichi out. Especially when otherwise solid looking tablets get rolled or folded up. By old people. Kokichi doesn't even want to think about the light shows that people his age use. Not to mention the younger generations.
Kokichi feels a bit cheated by DR always having early 21st century tier tech levels.
"A bit of sweat does a person good, I'd say. Anyway h-" Ogata cuts herself off after a cough from the doorman.
Kokichi raises an eyebrow.
Ogata smiles that old and knowing granny smile, before going back to that Canadian drama that she's obsessed with, something based on Sherlock. Wait, isn't Sherlock a British thing that happens in England? Shuichi talks about it enough for Kokichi to know that. Kokichi would never read some weird smelling old books! Ha.
Rubbing his shoe against the carpet prompts nothing but the feeling of sweat. Now cooling sweat. Fuck fuck ewwww-
"Right, conspiracy aside, I'm gone. I have a shower and bath in my future!" Kokichi says to the lobby and it's sparse inhabitants. A vacationer rolls his eyes before doing a sudden double take.
Kokichi sticks his tongue out and hops inside the elevator for permanent residents, still holding his security card.
A slow shamisen marks his ascent, access to his floor requiring another swipe of his residency card and also a pin code, but Kokichi is just happy to finally be home. Soon, shower. Then that blessed bath in that blessed tub.
Oh, and pull Shuichi in too! Kokichi smiles at the thought. There should still be some cold-brew coffee jelly or barley tea left in the fridge… Kokichi prefers tea, but the jelly made from the stuff out of their coffee machine is amazing. Miu always makes the best inventions, not that Kokichi would ever tell her, because then she might stop giving them free editions before the mini-inventions break into stores. Perks of living in the same building. Her Life Simplified series always takes the best of the 'future' and combines it with-
The elevator dings too fast.
Kokichi sighs and cradles his parasol as he trudges his way back home. It's not even that far down the hallway, but there's another electronic lock that will need his card and pin.
Also, he walked home in Japanese Summer Heat™. Such hell should be unknown to humanity.
Not the worst hell, aren't you just ungrateful? Comes the occasional remnant. Kokichi frowns but just rolls his eyes. He does all and more of the recommended post DR mental upkeep regimen. It's been years, and he'd never accepted those PRE-DR memories either. There were still the natural flashes and his personality had gone through the average post-season slide…
Pale peach hands, just barely still tanned from last week's beach trip, unceremoniously provide proof of residence to the tiny chirping box that everyone has on their door.
It's hard to have a day with no thoughts of 'anything'. That's why it's important to have any kind of day at all.
Kokichi pushes his way into the apartment and instinctually gets ready to take his shoes off.
But he pauses midway due to the fact that it's still dark as Korekiyo's in-game moral fiber. Kokichi squints past the entrance and cups a hand to his ear. Shuichi had made an almost suspicious point of taking off for the entire week, and he'd said that he'd be home all day too…
Had there been an emergency at his agency?
If the renovations had gone sour again then Kokichi might just go down there himself. His 'Talent' might be focused on children nowadays, but most adults are just kids and young teens in suits anyways. Kokichi had learned that in his freebie classes of psychology and debate club. And also parents. Oh God, the parents.
He slowly pulls his phone from his pocket. Finding the light button used to be hard, up until Miu made the thing function more safely and stop with the literal holographic pop ups. The rainbow-prismatic casing shifts and glows in the dark, casting a serene pattern again the umbrella stand. Kokichi's parasol gets carefully placed within the container. It shifts until leaning across Shuichi's more rain inclined umbrella.
Cute, he thinks.
He's glad that Shuichi bought the thing for him. Kokichi had been too antsy about buying something girlish.
Kokichi flicks the built in stand out and sets the phone down in order to put his bright green parakeet slippers on. Huge sparkling eyes look up and make Kokichi smile.
Then the man actually steps into the living room, causing lights to turn on.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" five people scream at him.
"You little sub, I can't believe you're only 5'2 at age 21!" Miu continues.
Kokichi glares up at her, "Excuse you? I am a preschool teacher, we do not do impure things. Think of the children!"
Miu wheezes and makes a remark about irony.
But his heart is too busy pounding in happy confusion. Birthday? Party? Kokichi's wide purple eyes dance around at brightly colored decorations, the exact amount of eye searing that he prefers. A good amount of lowkey lavender and silver backs it up.
Shocking bright yellow and salmon pink fills up Kokichi's vision.
Gonta is still in the process of pinning up a fancy 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU' along the kitchen cabinets, paused and grinning. Miu and Kiibo are badly hiding a pile of neatly arranged presents. Kokichi walks over to a balloon covered in Hello Kitty. He pokes it.
Then he looks over to Shuichi, who is pressed against the refrigerator. The Detective isn't usually one for looking suspicious in front of Kokichi.
But Shuichi looks like his internal sweat meter is off the charts.
He smiles, "Welcome back home, Kokichi. Would you li-"
"What kind of cake does that guarded refrigerator contain? Shumai?" Kokichi purrs as Miu feigns gagging to Kiibo. "What did you get me?"
Kiibo's flower painted prosthetics hurriedly work to cover up the present pile. Damn, Kokichi was just starting up at judging the sizes. At least Kiibo is wearing the lightweight set today, that daily jog of theirs would be hell otherwise.
Kokichi glances back to his nervous Shuichi.
The man is definitely- Oh, so that's why Ogata was acting weird. An actual conspiracy theory come true!
Giggles start up and trickle out of Kokichi's mouth like raindrops, small bits of laughter making the room seem brighter. Shuichi ends up joining him while Miu gives into her urges to make 'daaaw' sounds.
Sweat forgotten, Kokichi rushes over to hug Shuichi.
"Where is everyone else at?" he murmurs into Shuichi's chest.
Shuichi smiles and wraps his arms around Kokichi's waist. The warmth is pleasant despite the invading heat of summer.
"Out bringing home the dinner we all ordered, among other things. This was supposed to be a surprise you know," Shuichi says in a faux scolding tone. It make Kokichi nuzzle into him and sob exaggeratedly.
"Sooowwweee! The AC for the whole school died, we had an emergency meeting, and then I gave almost all my heat beating stuff to the kids. Everyone left early," Kokichi informs him. "And I walked some of the older kids from the adjacent elementary school home. So my backup backup stuff got given away too!"
He then sucks in wonderfully cold air as loudly as possible.
Shuichi kisses him.
Behind them, Gonta says something to Miu about Shuichi's gift. But Kokichi is pretty sure that Shuichi is gift enough.
"Did you get me something from that Indian place?" he asks and gets a slight grimace in reply.
Delicious. Spicy food is just so great even in summer. Giving the spice intolerant Shuichi some burning kisses is even better! Ah, Kokichi hopes that Shuichi ordered him the hottest thing possible.
Hope…
Shuichi would probably twitch at hearing the word, and normally Kokichi would too, but he can't help but feel hopeful right now.
"Ah fuck, the wrapping on my custom bath bomb maker got fucked!" Miu yells.
Then she freezes as everyone groans.
Except for Kokichi, who is too busy mimicking the happy noises that his class likes to makes when he still comes in on his days off.
By the time 'everyone else' shows up. Kokichi has gotten his way into Kiibo's gift of rare dark chocolate truffles. There is a bowl of coffee jelly and barley tea, all being munched on by Kokichi's ravenous mouth. The sight makes Rantaro groan and Kirumi laugh, but as people file into the suddenly cramped apartment, it's Kokichi who is shocked the most.
"Everyone is actually everyone?" Kokichi murmurs, watching as Kaito helps set up the dinner situation. "Everyone really made it to my birthday…"
Shuichi smiles and pats his shoulder.
If Kokichi has a hint of mist in his eyes, no one says anything.
Oumasai Week Day 5
Hyacinthium
Writing about sad cannibals as we speak.
- Location
- Bedroom
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Summary: "We're still here, we're still living, but sometimes Shuichi stays up at night anyway."
"Saihara-chan… " Kokichi mutters as sleep approaches him.
Shuichi looks down at the man in his arms, and again catches the scent of rose tea from Kokichi's hair, watching as Kokichi giggles again. The bed shifts with their combined weight. It's been a few days since Kokichi's birthday, and so a few days since Shuichi waited for everyone else to leave before presenting his gift. A few days since a pair of rings helped join them further together.
As if the two of them actually needed that help.
"I'm just Saihara-chan again?" he smiles. "That's oddly formal for you to use with your fiance. Especially now."
Purple eyes slowly open and drag their way up to Shuichi's lips, then his eyes.
Kokichi pouts, "It's cuz Shuichi was smelling my hair. Like a creep~"
Purple eyes twinkle with light hearted mischief and shut again. Kokichi nuzzles further into Shuichi's chest and falls back into the exhausted pull of his body. He's too tired to notice and address the way that Shuichi tenses. Shuichi can't hold it against him, and wouldn't even if he could.
A creep.
Shuichi has always been the one closest to those memories.
During Dangan Ronpa, Shuichi had ended up being the one with the strongest feelings, and even actual memories, if mostly murky. Kokichi had been similar during the game though. Still, the other man seemed to have neglected them enough for the memories to fade away. Everyone had been given three months to decide whether they wanted them, after of which they would need permission from a specialist to regain them, and Shuichi had wholeheartedly rejected the concept. He rejected most things related to what Tsumugi had told them. Wanted only to tear down the false dichotomies of Hope and Despair, which his past memories were intimately related to.
As the years go by, Shuichi has awoken to more and more drops of knowing all on his own.
Today is their anniversary. Not of a date or of dating, but of joining Dangan Ronpa in earnest, the anniversary of crying on the floor of Shuichi's childhood home with letters at their sides.
Kokichi has no idea what today means.
Shuichi stares up at his ceiling and holds Kokichi tighter.
He still can't really understand what kind of person he used to be, back then. Wide and not so subtly crazed eyes, a voice full of something ugly, and a mouth stretched into a parody of a smile. A creep. Someone truly obsessed with something so cloying toxic that they can't process reality. The entire world had been caught up in that mental swamp.
But that Saihara Shuichi had still been as much Saihara Shuichi as Shuichi is now, in the end. In the way that had counted, Shuichi still came to hate Dangan Ronpa. He can remember now that skewed and warped ideal of love, feel with accuracy the way it shuddered, remember the noises he made when it broke; the way those few leftover fragments remained even in the virtual world.
Sometimes, Shuichi wonders if hanging onto them was a mistake. If holding onto those mysterious feelings has simply resulted in Shuichi trapping Kokichi into a cliche future.
Nights where he gets stuck in doubt and memory- they're nights where Shuichi wonders if he's still in a fake world.
But they are getting better, and healing, even if it doesn't always seem that way.
Kokichi whispers something about ducklings against his chest. Shuichi looks down, and reaches to fix Kokichi's hair to being back behind his ear, a tired smile pushing against tired eyes. Kokichi's nose twitches.
"Shuuuuichi, bed," comes a slurred reminder.
The man in question laughs.
It doesn't come easy, but Kokichi's soft breathing, and his warmth despite the ever present summer heat- A no longer frail nor paper pale arm fumbles up in order to cradle Shuichi's face. Slowly, Shuichi allows himself to melt into Kokichi's embrace. It takes maybe thirty minutes for him to relax, according to their alarm clock, so Shuichi turns it over after some careful stretching. Kokichi fidgets and pulls him back down to their bed, something that makes Shuichi smile and sigh. Minutes pass into hours-
He wakes up at approximately 5:17 in the morning.
There's the smell of something sweet drifting in from the kitchen, and the bed is still warm on Kokichi's side, meaning that Shuichi has woken up after only four hours of sleep. Meaning that so did Kokichi.
Shuichi forces himself out of their bed and struggles his way into slippers. They're small and very bird looking.
Kokichi must have stolen his again.
The hallway is lit up by a single kitchen light, and Shuichi feels along the wall until he can see Kokichi's apron clad form. Kokichi is still small even now, though his regularly dyed purple hair make him larger than life, and his humming lends an air of domestic charm to their home. The scene reminds Shuichi of those last days.
They had spent all their funds on ingredients to bake with. Even an ice cream maker had made its way into their cart. Shuichi's parents had been shocked, but joined in on the quietly frantic… thing.
Kokichi pauses at the sound of a creaking floorboard. Not loud, but Shuichi and Kokichi had both decided to make their apartment less 'disturbingly perfect'.
Shuichi's parents were rich, and raised him in a large retro-traditional house, but even that had been more technologically literate than how Dangan Ronpa had left them. The old Shuichi wouldn't have flinched at the thought of not hearing some floorboards creak.
The bright grin on Kokichi's face yanks Shuichi out of his nostalgic thoughts- and burns them to ash.
"Mornin' dearheart!" Kokichi sings, the skin about his puffy eyes crinkling. "I made a bunch of pancakes, egg souffles, and I've got some bacon in mind. Woke up feeling more western than Miu's mom!"
Shuichi chuckles at the memories of Miu's natively French mother, specifically her love of cooking ramen from scratch, and shuffles over to their table. He sits on the false hardwood bench and rubs his eyes.
In the kitchen, Kokichi finishes up his current batch and turns off the stove.
There's a cup of still steaming coffee and a cup of half finished tea, the nearby teapot decorated by tiny rainbow fingerprints right next to it. Soft padded wacks of too big slippers accompany Kokichi's own trip, announcing his arrival, followed by warm arms wrapping around Shuichi's slumped shoulders.
Kokichi breathes into the crown of Shuichi's skull.
"Work?" he asks.
Shuichi shakes his head.
When Kokichi asks if it's just because, Shuichi almost lies and nods. It would be easy to pretend that he has no idea. Easy because Kokichi would absolutely accept it even if he could tell. Sometimes they both have to wait and think more, think about how to explain, to say it without causing pain. It's rarer now.
But Shuichi can't handle keeping this in. Not when Kokichi made Shuichi's favorite comfort foods so early.
"It was today, I remembered just last week after visiting your kids."
A strange and understanding noise vibrates in Kokichi's throat. He holds tighter, and goes to bring one of Shuichi's hands to the coffee. But Shuichi knows that he doesn't know exactly what Shuichi means.
Kokichi rubs Shuichi's cheek, "I figured, Mimi-chan and Hiro-chan had that fight over that show. Mimi-chan said she wouldn't be his friend anymore."
Shuichi's eyes shut as he takes a gulp of coffee.
"It's stupid to remember something because of-" he begins. A hand covers his eyes.
They do that when things get too much. Block out the world, and count to ten while taking deep breaths in and out. A cycle.
Coffee might have caffeine, but the warmth spreading from its familiar taste does help. It's a slow switch from long sips and steady breathing. Alternating as Shuichi acknowledges the burn building up in his eyes. When Kokichi asks if he's ready to stop, and Shuichi pulls his hand down to kiss.
"I'm sorry," the detective says, voice hoarse and eyes wet. "I was so stupid. Horrible. You tried to tell me that something was wrong, but all I could hear…"
Shuichi's eyes are still closed when Kokichi scoots down into the bench.
Kokichi slides his tea towards himself. He hovers the cup, painted with soft yellow flowers, and sets it back down.
"You weren't a bad person."
His shoulders tremble, because Shuichi knows enough about enough to say that he was. Can recall the scribble of pen on paper and taps on a touch screen. It's a good thing that Dangan Ronpa preemptively deletes all social media accounts, because otherwise Shuichi would have had to witness each disgusting confession. Even if they weren't actually confessions.
Bold and earnest statements that perfectly showcased just how disturbing the entire world was. How Shuichi was.
He's scared about having the capacity for such things. Shuichi can't stand chocolate chip cookies.
'I'm sure that he made them for me!'
That fear must have slip from his mouth, as Kokichi holds him tightly, curling them around one another.
"I don't hate any kind of Shuichi, okay? That feeling could never be aimed at you. Not from me. "
But Shuichi is-
"I hurt people too. Back then, and probably now. I started so many arguments in the sim! Tried to force people to improve back when we first got out. We argued a lot at the start, remember?"
But never abandoning someone to-
Kokichi brings the coffee up to Shuichi's lips. Shuichi blinks and wonders when Kokichi had enough hand to grab it all with. The other man has become downright parental after working with kids, always trying to take care of people, and improve things.
"Your birthday…" Shuichi begins. "I proposed to you, and I'm worried that you only said yes because you felt you had to."
A sigh, "Neither of us actually remember it all. Just the feelings and flashes, along with subconscious recognition. Also, I'd still say yes even if you were sweaty and full of hikki-neet grease. After forcibly bathing you."
Eyes opening, Shuichi turns to look at his lover. His partner. Pale purple looks back at him from a gentle face. It's no wonder that Kokichi is so popular at his workplace. Even the most reluctant of parents end up charmed by this grown up Kokichi, it seems. Shuichi feels like a particularly bratty kid getting silently scolded. Only a little though.
The detective decides to reach out first, cold hands eventually becoming intertwined with Kokichi's warmer one.
"I think mine are going to come back on their own, Kokichi."
He doesn't need to explain what.
Teeth instantly take hold of a bottom lip. Kokichi lifts his tea to his mouth and chugs it. Then, he pours a new cup and chugs that too. As if to pretend that it's alcohol, instead of whichever of the ten different teas that Kokichi drinks. Shuichi joins him.
For a moment there is nothing other than the hum of their kitchen.
Kokichi speaks, "I've always despised June. It's hot, assholes clamor to marry, and my birthday is there too."
Their hands squeeze together.
"I called your parents a few times, to learn about us. You know most of them. But one time we talked-"
Shuichi watches Kokichi start to shake and moves to set down the cups, holding him closer.
"They overdosed." Kokichi mutters.
And, Shuichi hears, what if they weren't actually as horrible as the feelings in my gut say? What if they realized how awful Dangan Ronpa really was, like so many other people? What if never being contacted by their only child pushed them away from the possibility of recovery and into death? Didn't they at least accept some important part of me?
But one good action of replacing skirts with pants is nothing compared the rest, Kokichi once told him. No amount of that can undo the abuse. Even to when it can't be consciously remembered outside of a rearranged backstory.
"When?" is what Shuichi asks instead.
They both know that those thoughts are traps- and oh so very human.
"Months ago."
Ah.
"Thank you for telling me," they whisper like a pair of doves. It makes Kokichi laugh, a sharp sound.
Kokichi turns and pecks the corner of Shuichi's mouth, resting a hand on his back. The sun is finally raising fully. The rays of light brighten the room and bring everything into focus.
Shuichi smiles something weak, but solid.
"We're still here, Shuichi. We're still living-" Kokichi cuts off.
His eyes widen.
"The pancakes are probably cold now!" he finishes, flying up and over to the mountains of cooling breakfast creations. "Shit, okay we're gonna eat and then have a relaxing bath full of talking a lot."
Laughter slips out of Shuichi's mouth and small tears spill into his empty coffee cup. They're still both so horrible at communication, if only sometimes. Neither of them have ever been the best at hearing either. Despite those flaws, they've found one another.
It's that ideal that gives Shuichi half the strength to get up on some mornings.
That Kokichi has a home where he can fret over simple things like cooking mishaps, misplacing his favorite sneakers, or where he can freely laze around with no shirt and no worries about the thin scars there. And he does have that now, Kokichi does have Shuichi's own personal goal; a place where he can rest safely.
They both do, with one another.
It's 'cliche' and 'stupid', and maybe it should be different, but Shuichi knows that his own self-loathing heart is the force driving that the most. Remembers hearing the words scripted and knowing that they both decided their feelings to be real no matter what it why.
Shuichi gets up and helps Kokichi try to keep the next batch of pancakes from burning.
"We'll have to give these away to everyone…." Kokichi yawns into his hand.
Leaning down, Shuichi feels a surge of lightness,and brushes Kokichi's bangs away from his face. He leaves a huge sloppy kiss on the other man's forehead. It makes Kokichi groan an exaggerated 'eeewww'. They break away as Kokichi grabs the sausage from the fridge instead of bacon. He pauses.
"I loved you even back then."
Shuichi's hands, mid pancake flip, use the spatula to send a fluffy two inch thick miracle straight to the floor.
"Aaaaah, Shumai- I love your shyness but please!"
The pit in Shuichi's chest is still there. Some days are days where it takes up his entirety. Rarer now, much rarer with all the help and support. The world is both so much better and just as bad as Shuichi thinks it is, perhaps.
Kokichi's gentle hands show Shuichi's own the correct way to flip things. The direct manner makes Shuichi fumble harder.
And so, the cooking continues.
"Saihara-chan… " Kokichi mutters as sleep approaches him.
Shuichi looks down at the man in his arms, and again catches the scent of rose tea from Kokichi's hair, watching as Kokichi giggles again. The bed shifts with their combined weight. It's been a few days since Kokichi's birthday, and so a few days since Shuichi waited for everyone else to leave before presenting his gift. A few days since a pair of rings helped join them further together.
As if the two of them actually needed that help.
"I'm just Saihara-chan again?" he smiles. "That's oddly formal for you to use with your fiance. Especially now."
Purple eyes slowly open and drag their way up to Shuichi's lips, then his eyes.
Kokichi pouts, "It's cuz Shuichi was smelling my hair. Like a creep~"
Purple eyes twinkle with light hearted mischief and shut again. Kokichi nuzzles further into Shuichi's chest and falls back into the exhausted pull of his body. He's too tired to notice and address the way that Shuichi tenses. Shuichi can't hold it against him, and wouldn't even if he could.
A creep.
Shuichi has always been the one closest to those memories.
During Dangan Ronpa, Shuichi had ended up being the one with the strongest feelings, and even actual memories, if mostly murky. Kokichi had been similar during the game though. Still, the other man seemed to have neglected them enough for the memories to fade away. Everyone had been given three months to decide whether they wanted them, after of which they would need permission from a specialist to regain them, and Shuichi had wholeheartedly rejected the concept. He rejected most things related to what Tsumugi had told them. Wanted only to tear down the false dichotomies of Hope and Despair, which his past memories were intimately related to.
As the years go by, Shuichi has awoken to more and more drops of knowing all on his own.
Today is their anniversary. Not of a date or of dating, but of joining Dangan Ronpa in earnest, the anniversary of crying on the floor of Shuichi's childhood home with letters at their sides.
Kokichi has no idea what today means.
Shuichi stares up at his ceiling and holds Kokichi tighter.
He still can't really understand what kind of person he used to be, back then. Wide and not so subtly crazed eyes, a voice full of something ugly, and a mouth stretched into a parody of a smile. A creep. Someone truly obsessed with something so cloying toxic that they can't process reality. The entire world had been caught up in that mental swamp.
But that Saihara Shuichi had still been as much Saihara Shuichi as Shuichi is now, in the end. In the way that had counted, Shuichi still came to hate Dangan Ronpa. He can remember now that skewed and warped ideal of love, feel with accuracy the way it shuddered, remember the noises he made when it broke; the way those few leftover fragments remained even in the virtual world.
Sometimes, Shuichi wonders if hanging onto them was a mistake. If holding onto those mysterious feelings has simply resulted in Shuichi trapping Kokichi into a cliche future.
Nights where he gets stuck in doubt and memory- they're nights where Shuichi wonders if he's still in a fake world.
But they are getting better, and healing, even if it doesn't always seem that way.
Kokichi whispers something about ducklings against his chest. Shuichi looks down, and reaches to fix Kokichi's hair to being back behind his ear, a tired smile pushing against tired eyes. Kokichi's nose twitches.
"Shuuuuichi, bed," comes a slurred reminder.
The man in question laughs.
It doesn't come easy, but Kokichi's soft breathing, and his warmth despite the ever present summer heat- A no longer frail nor paper pale arm fumbles up in order to cradle Shuichi's face. Slowly, Shuichi allows himself to melt into Kokichi's embrace. It takes maybe thirty minutes for him to relax, according to their alarm clock, so Shuichi turns it over after some careful stretching. Kokichi fidgets and pulls him back down to their bed, something that makes Shuichi smile and sigh. Minutes pass into hours-
He wakes up at approximately 5:17 in the morning.
There's the smell of something sweet drifting in from the kitchen, and the bed is still warm on Kokichi's side, meaning that Shuichi has woken up after only four hours of sleep. Meaning that so did Kokichi.
Shuichi forces himself out of their bed and struggles his way into slippers. They're small and very bird looking.
Kokichi must have stolen his again.
The hallway is lit up by a single kitchen light, and Shuichi feels along the wall until he can see Kokichi's apron clad form. Kokichi is still small even now, though his regularly dyed purple hair make him larger than life, and his humming lends an air of domestic charm to their home. The scene reminds Shuichi of those last days.
They had spent all their funds on ingredients to bake with. Even an ice cream maker had made its way into their cart. Shuichi's parents had been shocked, but joined in on the quietly frantic… thing.
Kokichi pauses at the sound of a creaking floorboard. Not loud, but Shuichi and Kokichi had both decided to make their apartment less 'disturbingly perfect'.
Shuichi's parents were rich, and raised him in a large retro-traditional house, but even that had been more technologically literate than how Dangan Ronpa had left them. The old Shuichi wouldn't have flinched at the thought of not hearing some floorboards creak.
The bright grin on Kokichi's face yanks Shuichi out of his nostalgic thoughts- and burns them to ash.
"Mornin' dearheart!" Kokichi sings, the skin about his puffy eyes crinkling. "I made a bunch of pancakes, egg souffles, and I've got some bacon in mind. Woke up feeling more western than Miu's mom!"
Shuichi chuckles at the memories of Miu's natively French mother, specifically her love of cooking ramen from scratch, and shuffles over to their table. He sits on the false hardwood bench and rubs his eyes.
In the kitchen, Kokichi finishes up his current batch and turns off the stove.
There's a cup of still steaming coffee and a cup of half finished tea, the nearby teapot decorated by tiny rainbow fingerprints right next to it. Soft padded wacks of too big slippers accompany Kokichi's own trip, announcing his arrival, followed by warm arms wrapping around Shuichi's slumped shoulders.
Kokichi breathes into the crown of Shuichi's skull.
"Work?" he asks.
Shuichi shakes his head.
When Kokichi asks if it's just because, Shuichi almost lies and nods. It would be easy to pretend that he has no idea. Easy because Kokichi would absolutely accept it even if he could tell. Sometimes they both have to wait and think more, think about how to explain, to say it without causing pain. It's rarer now.
But Shuichi can't handle keeping this in. Not when Kokichi made Shuichi's favorite comfort foods so early.
"It was today, I remembered just last week after visiting your kids."
A strange and understanding noise vibrates in Kokichi's throat. He holds tighter, and goes to bring one of Shuichi's hands to the coffee. But Shuichi knows that he doesn't know exactly what Shuichi means.
Kokichi rubs Shuichi's cheek, "I figured, Mimi-chan and Hiro-chan had that fight over that show. Mimi-chan said she wouldn't be his friend anymore."
Shuichi's eyes shut as he takes a gulp of coffee.
"It's stupid to remember something because of-" he begins. A hand covers his eyes.
They do that when things get too much. Block out the world, and count to ten while taking deep breaths in and out. A cycle.
Coffee might have caffeine, but the warmth spreading from its familiar taste does help. It's a slow switch from long sips and steady breathing. Alternating as Shuichi acknowledges the burn building up in his eyes. When Kokichi asks if he's ready to stop, and Shuichi pulls his hand down to kiss.
"I'm sorry," the detective says, voice hoarse and eyes wet. "I was so stupid. Horrible. You tried to tell me that something was wrong, but all I could hear…"
Shuichi's eyes are still closed when Kokichi scoots down into the bench.
Kokichi slides his tea towards himself. He hovers the cup, painted with soft yellow flowers, and sets it back down.
"You weren't a bad person."
His shoulders tremble, because Shuichi knows enough about enough to say that he was. Can recall the scribble of pen on paper and taps on a touch screen. It's a good thing that Dangan Ronpa preemptively deletes all social media accounts, because otherwise Shuichi would have had to witness each disgusting confession. Even if they weren't actually confessions.
Bold and earnest statements that perfectly showcased just how disturbing the entire world was. How Shuichi was.
He's scared about having the capacity for such things. Shuichi can't stand chocolate chip cookies.
'I'm sure that he made them for me!'
That fear must have slip from his mouth, as Kokichi holds him tightly, curling them around one another.
"I don't hate any kind of Shuichi, okay? That feeling could never be aimed at you. Not from me. "
But Shuichi is-
"I hurt people too. Back then, and probably now. I started so many arguments in the sim! Tried to force people to improve back when we first got out. We argued a lot at the start, remember?"
But never abandoning someone to-
Kokichi brings the coffee up to Shuichi's lips. Shuichi blinks and wonders when Kokichi had enough hand to grab it all with. The other man has become downright parental after working with kids, always trying to take care of people, and improve things.
"Your birthday…" Shuichi begins. "I proposed to you, and I'm worried that you only said yes because you felt you had to."
A sigh, "Neither of us actually remember it all. Just the feelings and flashes, along with subconscious recognition. Also, I'd still say yes even if you were sweaty and full of hikki-neet grease. After forcibly bathing you."
Eyes opening, Shuichi turns to look at his lover. His partner. Pale purple looks back at him from a gentle face. It's no wonder that Kokichi is so popular at his workplace. Even the most reluctant of parents end up charmed by this grown up Kokichi, it seems. Shuichi feels like a particularly bratty kid getting silently scolded. Only a little though.
The detective decides to reach out first, cold hands eventually becoming intertwined with Kokichi's warmer one.
"I think mine are going to come back on their own, Kokichi."
He doesn't need to explain what.
Teeth instantly take hold of a bottom lip. Kokichi lifts his tea to his mouth and chugs it. Then, he pours a new cup and chugs that too. As if to pretend that it's alcohol, instead of whichever of the ten different teas that Kokichi drinks. Shuichi joins him.
For a moment there is nothing other than the hum of their kitchen.
Kokichi speaks, "I've always despised June. It's hot, assholes clamor to marry, and my birthday is there too."
Their hands squeeze together.
"I called your parents a few times, to learn about us. You know most of them. But one time we talked-"
Shuichi watches Kokichi start to shake and moves to set down the cups, holding him closer.
"They overdosed." Kokichi mutters.
And, Shuichi hears, what if they weren't actually as horrible as the feelings in my gut say? What if they realized how awful Dangan Ronpa really was, like so many other people? What if never being contacted by their only child pushed them away from the possibility of recovery and into death? Didn't they at least accept some important part of me?
But one good action of replacing skirts with pants is nothing compared the rest, Kokichi once told him. No amount of that can undo the abuse. Even to when it can't be consciously remembered outside of a rearranged backstory.
"When?" is what Shuichi asks instead.
They both know that those thoughts are traps- and oh so very human.
"Months ago."
Ah.
"Thank you for telling me," they whisper like a pair of doves. It makes Kokichi laugh, a sharp sound.
Kokichi turns and pecks the corner of Shuichi's mouth, resting a hand on his back. The sun is finally raising fully. The rays of light brighten the room and bring everything into focus.
Shuichi smiles something weak, but solid.
"We're still here, Shuichi. We're still living-" Kokichi cuts off.
His eyes widen.
"The pancakes are probably cold now!" he finishes, flying up and over to the mountains of cooling breakfast creations. "Shit, okay we're gonna eat and then have a relaxing bath full of talking a lot."
Laughter slips out of Shuichi's mouth and small tears spill into his empty coffee cup. They're still both so horrible at communication, if only sometimes. Neither of them have ever been the best at hearing either. Despite those flaws, they've found one another.
It's that ideal that gives Shuichi half the strength to get up on some mornings.
That Kokichi has a home where he can fret over simple things like cooking mishaps, misplacing his favorite sneakers, or where he can freely laze around with no shirt and no worries about the thin scars there. And he does have that now, Kokichi does have Shuichi's own personal goal; a place where he can rest safely.
They both do, with one another.
It's 'cliche' and 'stupid', and maybe it should be different, but Shuichi knows that his own self-loathing heart is the force driving that the most. Remembers hearing the words scripted and knowing that they both decided their feelings to be real no matter what it why.
Shuichi gets up and helps Kokichi try to keep the next batch of pancakes from burning.
"We'll have to give these away to everyone…." Kokichi yawns into his hand.
Leaning down, Shuichi feels a surge of lightness,and brushes Kokichi's bangs away from his face. He leaves a huge sloppy kiss on the other man's forehead. It makes Kokichi groan an exaggerated 'eeewww'. They break away as Kokichi grabs the sausage from the fridge instead of bacon. He pauses.
"I loved you even back then."
Shuichi's hands, mid pancake flip, use the spatula to send a fluffy two inch thick miracle straight to the floor.
"Aaaaah, Shumai- I love your shyness but please!"
The pit in Shuichi's chest is still there. Some days are days where it takes up his entirety. Rarer now, much rarer with all the help and support. The world is both so much better and just as bad as Shuichi thinks it is, perhaps.
Kokichi's gentle hands show Shuichi's own the correct way to flip things. The direct manner makes Shuichi fumble harder.
And so, the cooking continues.
Oumasai Week Day 6
Hyacinthium
Writing about sad cannibals as we speak.
- Location
- Bedroom
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Doing this on mobile is tedious!
Summary: "Kokichi likes games and moving forward. Shuichi is the same, but everyone has their problems and everyone has different ways of coping. Some are worse than others."
"A… an insect tamer?" he slowly says. "But don't you hate bugs a lot?"
Kokichi gasps and looks at his Giant Orchid Mantis, watching the thing brutally stab a misshapen demon. He's named it… Stacy. The name sounds familiar in the way that all things related to Ogata's dramas do. The huge bug's 'nickname' is Sappi Stabbies.
It proceeds to spit acidic sap that poisons a huge area, explaining the affectionate title.
Multiple people start cursing.
"Nooooobbbs, if it wasn't allowed then it wouldn't be in the game!" Kokichi viciously crows, spamming a smug emote.
He then receives a bunch of comments on how slow his reaction time is, despite his character being in the top ten according to a small list in the left corner. Shuichi can barely make out the exact numbers. Backwards compatible games like this are always filled with too many windows.
"Stop being so old and get a VR console!" yells what sounds like a pre-teen.
Their character then shrivels into a sticky mummy.
Kokichi wheezes on amusement, "Pay attention to my wonderful baby's skill layout and put on poison nullifiers!"
Shuichi's eyebrows raise and he walks over to their living-dining room. It's no longer as hot as it once was, autumn now being the season of choice, but Shuichi feels a bit sweaty from the commute home. He strips off his outer layers and unbuttons his plain white shirt. Knowing Kokichi, there's a warm bath waiting for him. Still.
Things have improved since Shuichi's last dip, and there's a few wedding magazines on the coffee table.
"Oh shit," Kokichi hisses.
Looking over from where he'd thumbed open the magazine, Shuichi straight away notices an absolutely huge centaur like monstrosity. It must be big enough to house a city on its lava crusted back.
Cries of dismay sound out. But soon, they are silenced.
Kokichi glares at his laptop screen and quietly exits out of the game. His cheeks puff out the way that they always do, the exact pout of the Upset Kokichi.
"Why did you do that?" Shuichi asks.
A set of purple eyes glare up at him this time, a bit of something else joining Kokichi's annoyed face, "You can only have one character and there's an hour or longer time out when you die."
That's all the explanation that Shuichi needs. Even though that game is able to be played without VR, it remains a VR game. If either of them wanted, then there would be massive and immersion worlds to jump into, and Kokichi could even touch Stacy with his own mentally provided hands. But Shuichi himself has had little desire to play such a game.
He can't imagine how Kokichi feels about it.
It's later in the week that he finds out.
To be more exact, Shuichi finds out how Kokichi feels about quite a few things. They're out on a short vacation to watch the seasonal changing of maple trees and such.
The view from the bridge that they're on is incredibly vivid.
"Hey Shumai," Kokichi says as red leaves drift onto serene waters. "I think I wanna buy a VR console."
But Shuichi knows that that has to be a lie. They've talked about getting into AR, just simple augmented reality products, or simply unmodifying their phones. It's always rather unsettling to know that the majority of everyone thought meet is decades ahead of you. Kokichi himself despises the whole arrangement, though they chose to not remember.
He knows well enough to let Kokichi finish, though.
Kokichi grabs Shuichi's hand and pulls him away from the red painted bridge. The dirt path of the natural trail paints footsteps with a sense of relaxation, despite the upcoming conversation.
Kokichi brings himself to a stop near an orange painted bench. Shuichi sits down and watches Kokichi stay standing. It's uncomfortable.
"I just think that it would help us both move on, especially since a bunch of us have already done it," he says.
Shuichi nods, "It is common and sound advice to confront your issues."
Kokichi smiles even though his body fidgets.
A strand of hair starts to be twirled.
"So we'll go get something cheap. Or make Miu give us something!" he chirps. "We'll play games together."
Kokichi's voice is so obviously stilted to Shuichi's ears. It's clear that he's trying to hide something right now, something that living together has trained Shuichi to notice. His slowly returning memories have merely complicated things on that front. 'Why would you lie like that?', is a phrase that comes to mind.
As they wrap up their fall leaf viewing session, Shuichi considers pushing, but pushing Kokichi on this right now would be a mistake in the end.
Shuichi waits.
They get home from their trip, and Shuichi barely has any time before work pulls him into its clutches. Theft this time. It make Shuichi remember a certain moment of Phantom Thief and Detective, an admittedly happy memory, and he puts his all into it. Kokichi is similarly swamped with working at the preschool due to a sudden increase of illness. One sneeze is apparently all that everyone needs to get sick, and Kokichi is the only utterly unaffected teacher.
Thoughts of VR games sink into the background.
At least for Shuichi.
At least, up until it's announced that Team Dangan Ronpa and its many branches are finally, fully; dead.
Not even shell corporations remain.
The entire world has finished picking apart the megalithic testament to human cruelty. Normally, all survivors of the monstrosity would be as glad as other related news. This time though…
"So all the unclaimed memories are being given over to the government?" Himiko asks.
She, Maki, and Shuichi are barely paying attention to even the news announcement. Outside of the restaurant, away from their booth, there are people also taking in the breaking news. A few elderly people seem to be cheering about it all.
Shuichi spots a teen rip off a round pin and throw it to the floor.
The pettiness in him melds with past regrets and says that the kid is better off. The rest of him agrees.
Maki clicks her fingernails against their laminated table, "About time. I don't care about the things just sitting around, and everyone that wanted them has them."
"Well, duh. But I dunno if I want the government to have their hands on that stuff," Himiko grumbles. She sets her matcha latte down and glares back up at the screen.
They take a moment to consider it.
In their sixteen people strong group there is no one who, not even Kirumi, actually trusts the system that happily allowed Dangan Ronpa.
Not after finding out that Tsumugi was almost quietly shoved into some dark Institution, just because her memories made her 'disagreeable'. Shuichi can barely stand interacting with her even now, but…
"That's actually why I asked you two to come here."
Two pairs of eyes meet each other.
"Are you going to go for a June wedding after all?" Maki grimaces. "The person you plan to marry would hate that."
Shuichi face flushes, "We've talked about it and-"
He coughs when Himiko's joking leer fully registers.
The world famous magician starts teasing Shuichi about everyone knowing what happens when he and Kokichi argue, which Maki finds hilarious for some reason, and Shuichi slowly sinks into his seat. If only Kaede's recital hadn't been moved up. Then, wait, she'd tease him even more. Damn it. Only Gonta has any idea of romance these days. Everyone else has grown into such boring adults.
"Oh no… I'm starting to think like Kokichi," he mumbles into his palm.
Maki snorts.
A waiter refills their drinks and makes sure that they're satisfied.
"So what's the actual deal with you two?" Himiko asks. She's again swirling her hot drink together, lips tight in concentration.
"Kokichi said that he wants to get into VR stuff," Shuichi groans.
Before they can reply, "And I know that we should both at least attempt to approach the issue. I just can't help but think that there's something else."
"Oh, there has to be," Maki nods.
Himiko sighs and drinks her matcha, "He wouldn't be him if there wasn't something else. And I trust you to notice this stuff correctly."
Ah, right. Even now that everyone has become closer and genuine friends, there is still a part of Shuichi-Kokichi that only exists for them. It's an expected thing that Shuichi and Kokichi will notice things about the other best. Shuichi drinks his cappuccino and tries to hide the smile on his lips.
Becoming that one couple isn't so bad.
"But you should try it out. We should all move forward with this world in addition to dragging it out the muck."
Maki's fragrant cinnamon coffee and similar eyes drill straight past Shuichi's hesitance. The smell always makes Shuichi wake up, an ingrained response from when he and Maki would spend nights talking after her memories were returned. She'd whisper and shout in unintentional alterations, while others would visit, stuck walking round the nightlight filled halls of their own personal 'Recovery House'.
It is a bit funny, knowing that she and Kokichi regularly chat over their phones now. Though Maki's communication device of choice looks like a watch. Maki is also the one who convinced Shuichi to let his parents visit him. If not for those late night sessions, the woman before him, then Shuichi would probably have a very different life. He should call them again.
"And yes, I'll try it out with you two. There actually is a little game I like."
Himiko raises both eyebrows and stares at her booth buddy.
"Miss Still-Unable-to-Confess plays 'little vr games'?" Himiko squeaks. Both at how Maki reacts and just because of the mental images, Shuichi supposes.
The conversation soon turns to Maki and her own relationship adventures, memory caches purposefully left for later. The sun starts to go down, people get up to head back home, and Shuichi says goodbye to his friends. It will likely be a while before the three of them can meet up like this again. Maki is busy with her college classes, and Himiko is usually traveling with her girlfriends.
"So how are Tenko and Angie doing?" Maki attempts to use as a conversation changer. But, Himiko has grown up shameless.
Shuichi smiles and laughs, letting his worry melt down, but he remains aware that he lives out his dream, so to speak. Like that and when they get up to go back to their abodes, Shuichi doesn't stop thinking.
A dream being lived is only the same in its most basic particle; being with Ouma Kokichi.
Knowing and remembering himself is decidedly disappointing. There's enough to be disgusted, enough to have pity, and all together there is the fact that Saihara Shuichi was just a stupid if ill adjusted teen. Looking at it all reveals the strange fact that he'd just been slightly above average in horrible rating. Painfully common in the end.
That's what Shuichi sees of the world and what his therapist tells him, the facts that pop up each time Shuichi looks for them.
Dangan Ronpa was skilled at grooming it's audience for fodder. The world was skilled at justifying it. Sometimes, it still tries.
Shuichi gets on his bus and tries to reassure himself.
Kokichi prefers to clear his mind by walking, but Shuichi likes to zone out into 'critical thinking hour', though it works as often as it doesn't. The quiet thrumming of the bus engine lulls his heartbeat down.
Kokichi using VR won't innately cause harm. Or rather, VR isn't inherently evil and only capable of hurt. The thing that eventually gave birth to Dangan Ronpa's Virtual World was first made for therapy. It's used to this day. Plenty of therapy options involve use of Virtual or Augmented reality. Everyone is living in the future, after all.
Maki is ultimately correct in her insinuation. Shuichi has helped drag the world forward from Dangan Ronpa, while refusing to do the same.
Kokichi has probably been waiting for him.
Shuichi nods to Ogata and asks Watanabe if the mail has come, receiving a nod from the doorman and learning that Kokichi has already taken it up.
A bit of dread swells.
When Shuichi makes it into their apartment, he sees that Kokichi is on the couch, eating a lemon blueberry cupcake and looking at some envelopes. Shuichi can see a few that they've been waiting for. The one for Kokichi's surgery being the one that stands out the most. Then another has the logo of-
It's like a dizzy spell hits. Why is there a letter about their old memories in Kokichi's hands?
"Shuichi?" comes a soft and worried voice. Purple eyes stare up at Shuichi's frozen body. Then, Kokichi looks down at the mail and slowly pushes them aside, shaking off crumbs and frowning.
The detective doesn't want to know. But he asks anyway, "Are you. Do you want your memories back?"
Kokichi grimaces and looks back at their coffee table.
Shuichi's throat closes up.
Kokichi just exhales and walks forward, until they're hugging, standing up on his toes until their embrace is complete. Shuichi isn't entirely sure if the hug actually makes him feel better or not. He isn't sure if- no. He's completely aware that the idea of Kokichi remembering makes nausea rise up. Shuichi doesn't want Kokichi to carry those memories.
But that isn't a choice for Shuichi to decide on. They don't belong to him, and Kokichi is his own autonomous human being.
It will hurt. It already hurts now, still hurt Kokichi in the stimulation, and getting them all back will just make it worse. Shuichi himself is feeling the brunt of what may as be nightmares.
Kokichi still hasn't answered.
Shuichi drops his bag to the floor and holds Kokichi tighter.
"I can't," Kokichi says. "I can't because someone took advantage of transport prep and scrubbed them."
Inhale, Shuichi's body tells him. Take in oxygen and exhale. He leans away from Kokichi, and slowly brings them both over to the letters. Kokichi slides it over to him with slightly shaking hands, legs tapping, and watches while Shuichi reads.
Starting off with an apology for negligence, the letter details the circumstances, and that approximately all of the memories formerly held by Team Dangan Ronpa had been cleaned, and simplified to the point of uselessness. At least for actually remembering. They remained as melted down outlines, excluding age six and before.
"Time of estimated occurrence is at least six months ago, basically meaning just before they started temp holding," Kokichi snorts. "A way of saying that it's not their responsibility."
Shuichi isn't quite sure how to feel. He could be happy, he could be sad, but in the end he's just guilty.
Getting what you wish for tends to be like that.
A hand lightly smacks Shuichi's arm.
"Why don't we go play a game? Forgot about that shit and do something fun!" Kokichi says.
"But-"
Kokichi smiles, "I didn't exactly want them. I just wanted to know, since my Shuichi is going to remember anyway."
Shuichi's chest tightens and his heart leaps into his throat. So that's why Kokichi has been worrying. Of course he would, it only makes sense, and of course Kokichi would wait for things to get straighten out before saying something. Shuichi knows how cautious Kokichi can be. The detective is fairly certain that Kokichi does want that VR console though. Looking at that other important piece of mail makes it easy to learn why.
Being a detective doesn't stop someone from senseless worry and spiraling.
Having a multiple years long relationship doesn't stop anxiety and self consciousness from keeping you quiet either.
"Lets buy a two person console. You can even use it to figure out what you want from the surgery," Shuichi mumbles, his voice low.
Purple eyes light up.
Kokichi laughs and laughs, a sound that makes Shuichi pout with reddening ears.
"Put my eggs in a freezer in case I ever want them, get a permanently attached penis, and adopt some kids with you," he says with eyes soft and lips wide. Half moon and crescent. "That's the dream."
Hands slapping down to grab his cell phone, Shuichi sputters something to try and distract from how much of a lobster he must be. Surely Kokichi will be satisfied with that. There is no way that, yeah nevermind, Shuichi is doomed. He can see the smug look on Kokichi's face even from poor peripheral vision.
A laptop gets pulled out from under the couch. Kokichi turns the shockingly steady yet thin thing on, and slides the now open page for a VR console over to Shuichi's area.
No avoiding that blush of yours, Kokichi's hand seems to comment.
Different tabs are open though, and Shuichi remembers talking about it before. This isn't exactly a new topic. Fairly old in fact, back when Kokichi came to school wearing pants and with once lower back length hair cut to his shoulder. Pastel purple bandages changed to loud and near viciously bright colors.
Shuichi swallows.
It's not the first time they've considered children as a couple either.
"Sometimes I house hunt," he admits. "We could afford it right now too. After we get married, that's more options."
Kokichi laughs with something like relief in his voice.
"I've thought about doing it myself before, talking about it with Miu and Kiibo on how I might handle it. There are just so many kids already, really great kids, and they don't have anyone," Kokichi says. Shuichi knows what those words also mean. "Miu is still open for being a surrogate though…"
Their spare hands wrap around one another, and Shuichi tries to speak.
"I think I'd like adoption," he murmurs with some near intelligible words about it all. It makes Kokichi hum and laugh.
Shuichi slowly puts the console into their cart. Payment information gets filled out and Kokichi demands that the color be a bright lime green.
They meet eyes.
"I'm going to make you pet Stacy McStabbi Sappington for hours. Her personality type is affectionate! She might even drool on y-"
Shuichi lovingly shoves a spare pillow into Kokichi's sneering face. The haunting apparition vanishes into a storm of giggles, the evil vanquished, and Kokichi quietly hiccups as he melts into the couch.
Fingers switch tabs into a article on childproofing and how to plan house buying for big families.
Summary: "Kokichi likes games and moving forward. Shuichi is the same, but everyone has their problems and everyone has different ways of coping. Some are worse than others."
_
Shuichi stares down at Kokichi's laptop in confusion. There is an awful lot of pixels and polygons, lovingly made virti-D models, and a bunch of little icons constantly being pressed. It looks like an mmo. One of the few remaining games that don't actually require VR or AR too. Shuichi recalls hearing about the stubborn monolith on the radio. But that isn't what gets his attention, as finding Kokichi rushing through a video game for a weekend or so is normal.
"A… an insect tamer?" he slowly says. "But don't you hate bugs a lot?"
Kokichi gasps and looks at his Giant Orchid Mantis, watching the thing brutally stab a misshapen demon. He's named it… Stacy. The name sounds familiar in the way that all things related to Ogata's dramas do. The huge bug's 'nickname' is Sappi Stabbies.
It proceeds to spit acidic sap that poisons a huge area, explaining the affectionate title.
Multiple people start cursing.
"Nooooobbbs, if it wasn't allowed then it wouldn't be in the game!" Kokichi viciously crows, spamming a smug emote.
He then receives a bunch of comments on how slow his reaction time is, despite his character being in the top ten according to a small list in the left corner. Shuichi can barely make out the exact numbers. Backwards compatible games like this are always filled with too many windows.
"Stop being so old and get a VR console!" yells what sounds like a pre-teen.
Their character then shrivels into a sticky mummy.
Kokichi wheezes on amusement, "Pay attention to my wonderful baby's skill layout and put on poison nullifiers!"
Shuichi's eyebrows raise and he walks over to their living-dining room. It's no longer as hot as it once was, autumn now being the season of choice, but Shuichi feels a bit sweaty from the commute home. He strips off his outer layers and unbuttons his plain white shirt. Knowing Kokichi, there's a warm bath waiting for him. Still.
Things have improved since Shuichi's last dip, and there's a few wedding magazines on the coffee table.
"Oh shit," Kokichi hisses.
Looking over from where he'd thumbed open the magazine, Shuichi straight away notices an absolutely huge centaur like monstrosity. It must be big enough to house a city on its lava crusted back.
Cries of dismay sound out. But soon, they are silenced.
Kokichi glares at his laptop screen and quietly exits out of the game. His cheeks puff out the way that they always do, the exact pout of the Upset Kokichi.
"Why did you do that?" Shuichi asks.
A set of purple eyes glare up at him this time, a bit of something else joining Kokichi's annoyed face, "You can only have one character and there's an hour or longer time out when you die."
That's all the explanation that Shuichi needs. Even though that game is able to be played without VR, it remains a VR game. If either of them wanted, then there would be massive and immersion worlds to jump into, and Kokichi could even touch Stacy with his own mentally provided hands. But Shuichi himself has had little desire to play such a game.
He can't imagine how Kokichi feels about it.
It's later in the week that he finds out.
To be more exact, Shuichi finds out how Kokichi feels about quite a few things. They're out on a short vacation to watch the seasonal changing of maple trees and such.
The view from the bridge that they're on is incredibly vivid.
"Hey Shumai," Kokichi says as red leaves drift onto serene waters. "I think I wanna buy a VR console."
But Shuichi knows that that has to be a lie. They've talked about getting into AR, just simple augmented reality products, or simply unmodifying their phones. It's always rather unsettling to know that the majority of everyone thought meet is decades ahead of you. Kokichi himself despises the whole arrangement, though they chose to not remember.
He knows well enough to let Kokichi finish, though.
Kokichi grabs Shuichi's hand and pulls him away from the red painted bridge. The dirt path of the natural trail paints footsteps with a sense of relaxation, despite the upcoming conversation.
Kokichi brings himself to a stop near an orange painted bench. Shuichi sits down and watches Kokichi stay standing. It's uncomfortable.
"I just think that it would help us both move on, especially since a bunch of us have already done it," he says.
Shuichi nods, "It is common and sound advice to confront your issues."
Kokichi smiles even though his body fidgets.
A strand of hair starts to be twirled.
"So we'll go get something cheap. Or make Miu give us something!" he chirps. "We'll play games together."
Kokichi's voice is so obviously stilted to Shuichi's ears. It's clear that he's trying to hide something right now, something that living together has trained Shuichi to notice. His slowly returning memories have merely complicated things on that front. 'Why would you lie like that?', is a phrase that comes to mind.
As they wrap up their fall leaf viewing session, Shuichi considers pushing, but pushing Kokichi on this right now would be a mistake in the end.
Shuichi waits.
They get home from their trip, and Shuichi barely has any time before work pulls him into its clutches. Theft this time. It make Shuichi remember a certain moment of Phantom Thief and Detective, an admittedly happy memory, and he puts his all into it. Kokichi is similarly swamped with working at the preschool due to a sudden increase of illness. One sneeze is apparently all that everyone needs to get sick, and Kokichi is the only utterly unaffected teacher.
Thoughts of VR games sink into the background.
At least for Shuichi.
At least, up until it's announced that Team Dangan Ronpa and its many branches are finally, fully; dead.
Not even shell corporations remain.
The entire world has finished picking apart the megalithic testament to human cruelty. Normally, all survivors of the monstrosity would be as glad as other related news. This time though…
"So all the unclaimed memories are being given over to the government?" Himiko asks.
She, Maki, and Shuichi are barely paying attention to even the news announcement. Outside of the restaurant, away from their booth, there are people also taking in the breaking news. A few elderly people seem to be cheering about it all.
Shuichi spots a teen rip off a round pin and throw it to the floor.
The pettiness in him melds with past regrets and says that the kid is better off. The rest of him agrees.
Maki clicks her fingernails against their laminated table, "About time. I don't care about the things just sitting around, and everyone that wanted them has them."
"Well, duh. But I dunno if I want the government to have their hands on that stuff," Himiko grumbles. She sets her matcha latte down and glares back up at the screen.
They take a moment to consider it.
In their sixteen people strong group there is no one who, not even Kirumi, actually trusts the system that happily allowed Dangan Ronpa.
Not after finding out that Tsumugi was almost quietly shoved into some dark Institution, just because her memories made her 'disagreeable'. Shuichi can barely stand interacting with her even now, but…
"That's actually why I asked you two to come here."
Two pairs of eyes meet each other.
"Are you going to go for a June wedding after all?" Maki grimaces. "The person you plan to marry would hate that."
Shuichi face flushes, "We've talked about it and-"
He coughs when Himiko's joking leer fully registers.
The world famous magician starts teasing Shuichi about everyone knowing what happens when he and Kokichi argue, which Maki finds hilarious for some reason, and Shuichi slowly sinks into his seat. If only Kaede's recital hadn't been moved up. Then, wait, she'd tease him even more. Damn it. Only Gonta has any idea of romance these days. Everyone else has grown into such boring adults.
"Oh no… I'm starting to think like Kokichi," he mumbles into his palm.
Maki snorts.
A waiter refills their drinks and makes sure that they're satisfied.
"So what's the actual deal with you two?" Himiko asks. She's again swirling her hot drink together, lips tight in concentration.
"Kokichi said that he wants to get into VR stuff," Shuichi groans.
Before they can reply, "And I know that we should both at least attempt to approach the issue. I just can't help but think that there's something else."
"Oh, there has to be," Maki nods.
Himiko sighs and drinks her matcha, "He wouldn't be him if there wasn't something else. And I trust you to notice this stuff correctly."
Ah, right. Even now that everyone has become closer and genuine friends, there is still a part of Shuichi-Kokichi that only exists for them. It's an expected thing that Shuichi and Kokichi will notice things about the other best. Shuichi drinks his cappuccino and tries to hide the smile on his lips.
Becoming that one couple isn't so bad.
"But you should try it out. We should all move forward with this world in addition to dragging it out the muck."
Maki's fragrant cinnamon coffee and similar eyes drill straight past Shuichi's hesitance. The smell always makes Shuichi wake up, an ingrained response from when he and Maki would spend nights talking after her memories were returned. She'd whisper and shout in unintentional alterations, while others would visit, stuck walking round the nightlight filled halls of their own personal 'Recovery House'.
It is a bit funny, knowing that she and Kokichi regularly chat over their phones now. Though Maki's communication device of choice looks like a watch. Maki is also the one who convinced Shuichi to let his parents visit him. If not for those late night sessions, the woman before him, then Shuichi would probably have a very different life. He should call them again.
"And yes, I'll try it out with you two. There actually is a little game I like."
Himiko raises both eyebrows and stares at her booth buddy.
"Miss Still-Unable-to-Confess plays 'little vr games'?" Himiko squeaks. Both at how Maki reacts and just because of the mental images, Shuichi supposes.
The conversation soon turns to Maki and her own relationship adventures, memory caches purposefully left for later. The sun starts to go down, people get up to head back home, and Shuichi says goodbye to his friends. It will likely be a while before the three of them can meet up like this again. Maki is busy with her college classes, and Himiko is usually traveling with her girlfriends.
"So how are Tenko and Angie doing?" Maki attempts to use as a conversation changer. But, Himiko has grown up shameless.
Shuichi smiles and laughs, letting his worry melt down, but he remains aware that he lives out his dream, so to speak. Like that and when they get up to go back to their abodes, Shuichi doesn't stop thinking.
A dream being lived is only the same in its most basic particle; being with Ouma Kokichi.
Knowing and remembering himself is decidedly disappointing. There's enough to be disgusted, enough to have pity, and all together there is the fact that Saihara Shuichi was just a stupid if ill adjusted teen. Looking at it all reveals the strange fact that he'd just been slightly above average in horrible rating. Painfully common in the end.
That's what Shuichi sees of the world and what his therapist tells him, the facts that pop up each time Shuichi looks for them.
Dangan Ronpa was skilled at grooming it's audience for fodder. The world was skilled at justifying it. Sometimes, it still tries.
Shuichi gets on his bus and tries to reassure himself.
Kokichi prefers to clear his mind by walking, but Shuichi likes to zone out into 'critical thinking hour', though it works as often as it doesn't. The quiet thrumming of the bus engine lulls his heartbeat down.
Kokichi using VR won't innately cause harm. Or rather, VR isn't inherently evil and only capable of hurt. The thing that eventually gave birth to Dangan Ronpa's Virtual World was first made for therapy. It's used to this day. Plenty of therapy options involve use of Virtual or Augmented reality. Everyone is living in the future, after all.
Maki is ultimately correct in her insinuation. Shuichi has helped drag the world forward from Dangan Ronpa, while refusing to do the same.
Kokichi has probably been waiting for him.
Shuichi nods to Ogata and asks Watanabe if the mail has come, receiving a nod from the doorman and learning that Kokichi has already taken it up.
A bit of dread swells.
When Shuichi makes it into their apartment, he sees that Kokichi is on the couch, eating a lemon blueberry cupcake and looking at some envelopes. Shuichi can see a few that they've been waiting for. The one for Kokichi's surgery being the one that stands out the most. Then another has the logo of-
It's like a dizzy spell hits. Why is there a letter about their old memories in Kokichi's hands?
"Shuichi?" comes a soft and worried voice. Purple eyes stare up at Shuichi's frozen body. Then, Kokichi looks down at the mail and slowly pushes them aside, shaking off crumbs and frowning.
The detective doesn't want to know. But he asks anyway, "Are you. Do you want your memories back?"
Kokichi grimaces and looks back at their coffee table.
Shuichi's throat closes up.
Kokichi just exhales and walks forward, until they're hugging, standing up on his toes until their embrace is complete. Shuichi isn't entirely sure if the hug actually makes him feel better or not. He isn't sure if- no. He's completely aware that the idea of Kokichi remembering makes nausea rise up. Shuichi doesn't want Kokichi to carry those memories.
But that isn't a choice for Shuichi to decide on. They don't belong to him, and Kokichi is his own autonomous human being.
It will hurt. It already hurts now, still hurt Kokichi in the stimulation, and getting them all back will just make it worse. Shuichi himself is feeling the brunt of what may as be nightmares.
Kokichi still hasn't answered.
Shuichi drops his bag to the floor and holds Kokichi tighter.
"I can't," Kokichi says. "I can't because someone took advantage of transport prep and scrubbed them."
Inhale, Shuichi's body tells him. Take in oxygen and exhale. He leans away from Kokichi, and slowly brings them both over to the letters. Kokichi slides it over to him with slightly shaking hands, legs tapping, and watches while Shuichi reads.
Starting off with an apology for negligence, the letter details the circumstances, and that approximately all of the memories formerly held by Team Dangan Ronpa had been cleaned, and simplified to the point of uselessness. At least for actually remembering. They remained as melted down outlines, excluding age six and before.
"Time of estimated occurrence is at least six months ago, basically meaning just before they started temp holding," Kokichi snorts. "A way of saying that it's not their responsibility."
Shuichi isn't quite sure how to feel. He could be happy, he could be sad, but in the end he's just guilty.
Getting what you wish for tends to be like that.
A hand lightly smacks Shuichi's arm.
"Why don't we go play a game? Forgot about that shit and do something fun!" Kokichi says.
"But-"
Kokichi smiles, "I didn't exactly want them. I just wanted to know, since my Shuichi is going to remember anyway."
Shuichi's chest tightens and his heart leaps into his throat. So that's why Kokichi has been worrying. Of course he would, it only makes sense, and of course Kokichi would wait for things to get straighten out before saying something. Shuichi knows how cautious Kokichi can be. The detective is fairly certain that Kokichi does want that VR console though. Looking at that other important piece of mail makes it easy to learn why.
Being a detective doesn't stop someone from senseless worry and spiraling.
Having a multiple years long relationship doesn't stop anxiety and self consciousness from keeping you quiet either.
"Lets buy a two person console. You can even use it to figure out what you want from the surgery," Shuichi mumbles, his voice low.
Purple eyes light up.
Kokichi laughs and laughs, a sound that makes Shuichi pout with reddening ears.
"Put my eggs in a freezer in case I ever want them, get a permanently attached penis, and adopt some kids with you," he says with eyes soft and lips wide. Half moon and crescent. "That's the dream."
Hands slapping down to grab his cell phone, Shuichi sputters something to try and distract from how much of a lobster he must be. Surely Kokichi will be satisfied with that. There is no way that, yeah nevermind, Shuichi is doomed. He can see the smug look on Kokichi's face even from poor peripheral vision.
A laptop gets pulled out from under the couch. Kokichi turns the shockingly steady yet thin thing on, and slides the now open page for a VR console over to Shuichi's area.
No avoiding that blush of yours, Kokichi's hand seems to comment.
Different tabs are open though, and Shuichi remembers talking about it before. This isn't exactly a new topic. Fairly old in fact, back when Kokichi came to school wearing pants and with once lower back length hair cut to his shoulder. Pastel purple bandages changed to loud and near viciously bright colors.
Shuichi swallows.
It's not the first time they've considered children as a couple either.
"Sometimes I house hunt," he admits. "We could afford it right now too. After we get married, that's more options."
Kokichi laughs with something like relief in his voice.
"I've thought about doing it myself before, talking about it with Miu and Kiibo on how I might handle it. There are just so many kids already, really great kids, and they don't have anyone," Kokichi says. Shuichi knows what those words also mean. "Miu is still open for being a surrogate though…"
Their spare hands wrap around one another, and Shuichi tries to speak.
"I think I'd like adoption," he murmurs with some near intelligible words about it all. It makes Kokichi hum and laugh.
Shuichi slowly puts the console into their cart. Payment information gets filled out and Kokichi demands that the color be a bright lime green.
They meet eyes.
"I'm going to make you pet Stacy McStabbi Sappington for hours. Her personality type is affectionate! She might even drool on y-"
Shuichi lovingly shoves a spare pillow into Kokichi's sneering face. The haunting apparition vanishes into a storm of giggles, the evil vanquished, and Kokichi quietly hiccups as he melts into the couch.
Fingers switch tabs into a article on childproofing and how to plan house buying for big families.
Oumasai Week Day 7
Hyacinthium
Writing about sad cannibals as we speak.
- Location
- Bedroom
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Summary: "Kokichi actually meets his in-laws for the first time in years. There's a lot to talk about, especially when Shuichi's parents work in real estate stuff now. The joys of house hunting and lingering regrets."
"A fixer upper, huh?" he mutters into his palm. "We'd probably do a lot of personalized stuff to any kind of property anyway…"
He opens his eyes and looks at the graying old man in front of him.
"Such things are still rare even now, yes. But I think that it would be worthwhile for you both," says Shuichi's father, wrinkles shifting.
Saihara Saigen.
The man, along with the lovely Saihara Airi, are probably the closest thing to real parents that Kokichi has ever had. Kokichi is still extremely nervous to sit in their living room despite that. He barely recalls what being here was ever like. The way that the couch and his body sink into one another can even be called relaxed.
Kokichi's urge to bite his fingernails off is still strong. It isn't just because of the past or house buying either. Or the adoption papers or the upcoming medical stuff.
Kokichi sighs into his tea.
He's pretty sure that Shuichi's father knows already.
"So, who did you have go mess with my memories?" Kokichi asks.
Shuichi laughs brightly from inside the kitchen.
Kokichi watches an age speckled hand rub it's owners mouth, a familiar tell that Shuichi must have learned from his father. For a moment, Kokichi wonders at how hard it must have been to have a child so late in life.
Saigen stays quiet, but they all know that he and Airi both used to work with Team Dangan Ronpa and similar as 'memory' specialists. Retiring from that exact job when Shuichi was born doesn't erase it. Their expertise and past profession can't be taken away like memories. Even the house that Shuichi grew up in, that they live in still- it's from that money.
"We went in to visit old faces and did it ourselves. It was a friend who made sure we got out clean," the man confesses.
More bits of conversation flow in, the sound of happy voices and splashing water settling around like blankets. Shuichi's relief is obvious, and Kokichi can't be mad, not when he'd dreaded the mere idea of putting in that request. But Kokichi still feels just as awful now.
"You took away my ability to choose."
Part of Kokichi wants to thank him for that. That's perhaps the worst and best thing in the end. Kokichi doesn't have to decide whether he wants to remember all the suffering he grew up drowning in, because all he will get is a timeline that he already knows of. He hates it. He hates the relief and release from self given responsibility. Kokichi hates that he's happy and how he gets to just…
Kokichi rubs his eyes and Saigen doesn't say anything, letting Kokichi act like he isn't crying at all. The whole song and dance of playing pretend is something from that damn simulation. Right now, Kokichi almost wants to sink into a false reality.
"I wish you hadn't. But I'm glad you did," he eventually says.
Saigen offers him the pot and tea and Kokichi allows him to refill the cup.
"I don't even know why I looked into it, half the time, but I'm not going to tell on you. Might have wrecked them myself anyway," Kokichi admits.
Yet, both men know that Kokichi doesn't trust the older couple anymore. How can he be expected to trust them after what they've done? Whether it was for him or to him. Shuichi's parents clearly care about him, Kokichi isn't going to follow the urge to question that, but trusting them again isn't going to happen for a while. It will probably never be the same.
Tea cups clink around the table.
That doesn't mean that Kokichi hates them or doesn't care though.
Saigen looks over to the kitchen doorway with gray-brown eyes. It's a wistful look, and Kokichi understands it.
This is the only second time that Shuichi has visited his parent's home since he left the simulation. Kokichi is conflicted enough already, so there is no way in hell that Shuichi is finding out that his parents did. That. Probably a huge favor.
Kokichi looks up and over at Shuichi's smiling face as he walks in. The smile is returned, Shuichi sits down and snuggles up to Kokichi's side.
"Someone is happy right now," Kokichi teases.
Shuichi makes a nameless noise. It's cute and a bit cringey in the way that Kokichi's heart swells up from it. They should have visited before now, Kokichi thinks to himself. He returns Shuichi's half hug and grins when Shuichi's mother whispers something to her husband.
Picking up a tablet and some magazines, they get back to work.
Distraction keeps settling over Kokichi's shoulders though, filling him with the urges to explore this faintly-in-the-guts recognized house.
There are times when Kokichi gets hit by a deep seated nostalgia. When he gets up to go to the bathroom, when he goes into the kitchen to get something and sees an ice cream maker, and especially when he pushes Shuichi into his old room. The room itself is cleansed of merchandise, but Kokichi gets a clear vision of well cared for figures sneering down at him. Something about the bed is comforting, though. Maybe Shuichi was a cuddle bug even back then?
He's still glad that they aren't spending the night. It's a nice place, but Kokichi can't make himself want to hang around after dark.
The hand holding his clenches down.
Shuichi and Kokichi leave for their hotel, after hours of looking at houses, because an apartment ended up being not what they're looking for. So, now the two of them are genuinely looking for a house. It makes Kokichi's stomach feel all fluttery, thinking of which prefecture and what location, and the pictures end up making his eyes swim.
The current real estate market of Japan is complex and difficult to fully navigate, but Shuichi's parents do this stuff for a living.
Bubbles and other shit. God, the simplicity of picking the apartment never actually seemed simple until now.
Seeing as their budget is pretty good, the places that they're looking for aren't exactly dumps. The two of them should be able to do more than afford a good place. They can look for fancy or expensive places too. But they're both very conscious of how fast money gets spent. It's near instinctual for Kokichi. Like that, it's only natural to look for a more modest place. Extravagance is a waste.
Hunting for a house is hard for first timers though. Part of the reason why they reached out to Shuichi's parents, after all.
A good thing too, considering that Kokichi is certain that they would have missed this place without them.
Old is the first thing that Kokichi thinks. He even says it, making his future in-laws laugh as everyone enters the building. Shoes get replaced with slippers and Kokichi wheezes at the sight of actual genuinely real hardwood. The whole house was built during a small revival of traditional Japanese styles.
It's only around fifty years old despite looking centuries old. Well, just style wise and not the condition. Being a bit run down looking is just part of life.
"How much is this place again?!" he says wide eyed to Saigen. All he gets is the same listing price.
"10,996,000 yen."
Shuichi coughs, "I can guess how bad it might be, if that's the asking price in this location."
Kokichi hums and remembers the pictures on the site. It hadn't looked like too much of a lemon. The interactive 3d tour had revealed a nice size and layout too. There isn't any real issue with location either, as the house is close to things like supermarkets and convenience stores, and transportation isn't an issue either. It is more rural though…
Then Kokichi sees something black swish in a corner. Again. His eyes narrow, and Shuichi gets forced forward as a meat shield by his loving fiance.
Airi chuckles behind them. She and Saigen must have already talked to the owners of the property. Probably an agent too, but who cares about some ambiguous dude character?
Kokichi follows the mysterious swish down a fairly long hallway. All the while, Shuichi and his parents talk about the house while Kokichi occasionally butt in.
It goes like, 'ah yes the local brewery' and also 'the schools are very good here' until 'I'm pretty sure that the bathroom just now is more haunted than Rantarou's dating attempts'.
Finally, Kokichi is leading the charge into a closet in the very traditional living room. It even has one of those tea fire pit things!
But more important than Kokichi's basically shit word recall…
Shuichi ends up open the closest instead, revealing a large black house cat with maybe six kittens. The momma cat gives them a tired look and floors down for her swarming babies. They immediately jump her.
"Holy shit give me the keys, it is sold." Kokichi says in one breath.
A kitten wiggles with still closed eyes. It mewls.
"Seriously," he turns to the three Saiharae behind him. "This belongs to me now."
Airi's chuckle evolves into a full blown fit of cackling. Her arms wrap around her middle, and Saigen pats her back as his son frets. Kokichi walks over and grins at the three. He holds his arms out and says-
"Now tell me every little thing wrong with it!"
Shuichi's eyes widen when his father pulls out an entire list consisting of little to smallish things. He glances over at Kokichi, to which Kokichi grins further, before he sighs and takes the paper of Not Good Stuff into his hands.
It's a fun day.
"Well, it looks like there's an entire colony of cats that live centered around this particular home," Airi later stages whispers, the four of them having gone out to a small restaurant.
"That is the biggest perk for me though," Kokichi says.
Shuichi is out with Saigen talking about price negotiations. Kokichi would be out there with him if not for how damn hungry he is. Stuff just gets like that sometimes.
Smiling, they continue to chat. There's a vague awkwardness between Kokichi and his, by next June, parents. Which is completely weird to say no matter what, but hey.
Airi sets aside her soba noodles, "I was going to hold off for a bit… but you two are planning on adopting?"
Kokichi slowly nods and watches Airi smile. She's a good decade and a half younger than her husband, and Kokichi is pretty sure that there's a story there.
Another time.
"That's great! Things aren't as bad as when I was younger- it should be much easier for you two than it was for my parents."
"O-oh?" he blinks, chopsticks mid air.
Airi chuckles again and Kokichi sets his chopsticks down entirely.
"Are there any kind of tips you could tell us? Maki and some other people are already giving more personal advice, but," Kokichi trails off in the end.
She sighs, her smile becoming full of old memories, "Don't shy away from adopting an older kid. It'll be harder, yes, and I don't think you'd write them off- but it was worth it for both my parents and myself."
"And the paperwork is awful too, no matter what. Even another century of progress won't change that."
They share a small laugh, because wow if it isn't true. Paperwork is always hell. Even the damn VR console had had some bullshit to fill out.
The old woman's hand gently pats his own.
"Not to say that adopting younger is bad either. There are a lot of babies…" Airi continues.
Kokichi nods, remembering Maki talk about both versions of her orphanage. Even back when Japan's birthrate were low, there had been places entirely dedicated to housing babies given up by their parents. It almost makes Kokichi glad that his falsified memories have him living some cliche 'abused kid runs away and finds a family' fantasy.
"I'm most afraid of making horrible mistakes," he confesses. "I'm scared that I'll end up hurting them."
And he doesn't have to explain what that means- Airi inhales slowly, arms wrapping around him and bringing soft jasmine perfume with them.
"I still think the same thing. Even though the whole damn world has gotten better, I know that it must have been our fault."
Kokichi laughs.
"Shuichi-"
"Not just Shuichi, Kokichi."
Because how can I not blame myself when I could have helped you back then? Kokichi knows to hear.
There's nothing that Kokichi can say to that, but the feeling comes back for the first time in years.
The feeling that he had back then, waking up after dying, blinking aching eyes as his pod opened up. He'd been tried and awake all at once as muddled thought swam through his drugged body. Doctors and TEAM-DR labeled people told him that it was for psychosomatic pain and backlash. Kokichi didn't believe a single speck of it. Especially when the one asshole called him by a name unused for years, obviously just to get a rise.
Desperate tactics for a doomed ship.
Kokichi still remembers the sight of Miu punching someone right in the face. Should have had the foresight to drug her too, but instead some stupid technician got a broken nose.
"I can't really blame you two for that," Kokichi says.
Airi disengages from him. It's a bit disorientating, feeling her warmth leave and seeing the normally bright woman tend to her noodles.
"You should."
Maybe, Kokichi's tapping fingers say. But he doesn't want to.
Kokichi wants to move on from it. Kicking and screaming, he's going to drag that cringing and faceless child out of the depths of his heart. He wants to continue to give it a name. To own it and make it his until Kokichi is all that remains. Because memories or not- it's his life. That will always be part of him.
Unsaid words hang between them in the back booth of a cozy restaurant. In a little bit, somewhere not public, Kokichi and his mother can continue.
There's too much to say over just dinner.
"Aaahhh, I just want a bath!" Kokichi leans back and groans. A duo of tired smiles fill the air.
Fake leather squeaks and the sound of eating starts once more, quiet waiting for the other two Saihara men to finish their own conversation.
By the slightly pinched looks on their faces, paired with no bad news on the house, Kokichi can guess.
But Shuichi doesn't seem to be in a state of much turmoil. Kokichi reaches under the table and gives his hand a squeeze. The smile he gets in return is tight. Too tight. Hmmm!
"Anyway! I was thinking about that medical tattooing stuff and how early it can happen? And I was thinking about what kind of look Shumai might prefer? So, last night I asked since surgery is next month and Miu is almost done her Big Invention project," Kokichi starts babbling.
Shuichi's red ears and slight pout fill Kokichi's vision.
Yeah. The world now is definitely worth it.
_
Kokichi closes his eyes. The sounds of Shuichi being teased by his mother flow out from the kitchen. It's near sickeningly domestic, so much that Kokichi wants to run in and start embarrassing Shuichi too. Point out the rings and show off the shine and tiny rocks there. All economical and ethical materials, because Kokichi and Shuichi are huge moral snobs, the kind that cry watching documentaries about nature. Gonta can safely be blamed for that.
"A fixer upper, huh?" he mutters into his palm. "We'd probably do a lot of personalized stuff to any kind of property anyway…"
He opens his eyes and looks at the graying old man in front of him.
"Such things are still rare even now, yes. But I think that it would be worthwhile for you both," says Shuichi's father, wrinkles shifting.
Saihara Saigen.
The man, along with the lovely Saihara Airi, are probably the closest thing to real parents that Kokichi has ever had. Kokichi is still extremely nervous to sit in their living room despite that. He barely recalls what being here was ever like. The way that the couch and his body sink into one another can even be called relaxed.
Kokichi's urge to bite his fingernails off is still strong. It isn't just because of the past or house buying either. Or the adoption papers or the upcoming medical stuff.
Kokichi sighs into his tea.
He's pretty sure that Shuichi's father knows already.
"So, who did you have go mess with my memories?" Kokichi asks.
Shuichi laughs brightly from inside the kitchen.
Kokichi watches an age speckled hand rub it's owners mouth, a familiar tell that Shuichi must have learned from his father. For a moment, Kokichi wonders at how hard it must have been to have a child so late in life.
Saigen stays quiet, but they all know that he and Airi both used to work with Team Dangan Ronpa and similar as 'memory' specialists. Retiring from that exact job when Shuichi was born doesn't erase it. Their expertise and past profession can't be taken away like memories. Even the house that Shuichi grew up in, that they live in still- it's from that money.
"We went in to visit old faces and did it ourselves. It was a friend who made sure we got out clean," the man confesses.
More bits of conversation flow in, the sound of happy voices and splashing water settling around like blankets. Shuichi's relief is obvious, and Kokichi can't be mad, not when he'd dreaded the mere idea of putting in that request. But Kokichi still feels just as awful now.
"You took away my ability to choose."
Part of Kokichi wants to thank him for that. That's perhaps the worst and best thing in the end. Kokichi doesn't have to decide whether he wants to remember all the suffering he grew up drowning in, because all he will get is a timeline that he already knows of. He hates it. He hates the relief and release from self given responsibility. Kokichi hates that he's happy and how he gets to just…
Kokichi rubs his eyes and Saigen doesn't say anything, letting Kokichi act like he isn't crying at all. The whole song and dance of playing pretend is something from that damn simulation. Right now, Kokichi almost wants to sink into a false reality.
"I wish you hadn't. But I'm glad you did," he eventually says.
Saigen offers him the pot and tea and Kokichi allows him to refill the cup.
"I don't even know why I looked into it, half the time, but I'm not going to tell on you. Might have wrecked them myself anyway," Kokichi admits.
Yet, both men know that Kokichi doesn't trust the older couple anymore. How can he be expected to trust them after what they've done? Whether it was for him or to him. Shuichi's parents clearly care about him, Kokichi isn't going to follow the urge to question that, but trusting them again isn't going to happen for a while. It will probably never be the same.
Tea cups clink around the table.
That doesn't mean that Kokichi hates them or doesn't care though.
Saigen looks over to the kitchen doorway with gray-brown eyes. It's a wistful look, and Kokichi understands it.
This is the only second time that Shuichi has visited his parent's home since he left the simulation. Kokichi is conflicted enough already, so there is no way in hell that Shuichi is finding out that his parents did. That. Probably a huge favor.
Kokichi looks up and over at Shuichi's smiling face as he walks in. The smile is returned, Shuichi sits down and snuggles up to Kokichi's side.
"Someone is happy right now," Kokichi teases.
Shuichi makes a nameless noise. It's cute and a bit cringey in the way that Kokichi's heart swells up from it. They should have visited before now, Kokichi thinks to himself. He returns Shuichi's half hug and grins when Shuichi's mother whispers something to her husband.
Picking up a tablet and some magazines, they get back to work.
Distraction keeps settling over Kokichi's shoulders though, filling him with the urges to explore this faintly-in-the-guts recognized house.
There are times when Kokichi gets hit by a deep seated nostalgia. When he gets up to go to the bathroom, when he goes into the kitchen to get something and sees an ice cream maker, and especially when he pushes Shuichi into his old room. The room itself is cleansed of merchandise, but Kokichi gets a clear vision of well cared for figures sneering down at him. Something about the bed is comforting, though. Maybe Shuichi was a cuddle bug even back then?
He's still glad that they aren't spending the night. It's a nice place, but Kokichi can't make himself want to hang around after dark.
The hand holding his clenches down.
Shuichi and Kokichi leave for their hotel, after hours of looking at houses, because an apartment ended up being not what they're looking for. So, now the two of them are genuinely looking for a house. It makes Kokichi's stomach feel all fluttery, thinking of which prefecture and what location, and the pictures end up making his eyes swim.
The current real estate market of Japan is complex and difficult to fully navigate, but Shuichi's parents do this stuff for a living.
Bubbles and other shit. God, the simplicity of picking the apartment never actually seemed simple until now.
Seeing as their budget is pretty good, the places that they're looking for aren't exactly dumps. The two of them should be able to do more than afford a good place. They can look for fancy or expensive places too. But they're both very conscious of how fast money gets spent. It's near instinctual for Kokichi. Like that, it's only natural to look for a more modest place. Extravagance is a waste.
Hunting for a house is hard for first timers though. Part of the reason why they reached out to Shuichi's parents, after all.
A good thing too, considering that Kokichi is certain that they would have missed this place without them.
Old is the first thing that Kokichi thinks. He even says it, making his future in-laws laugh as everyone enters the building. Shoes get replaced with slippers and Kokichi wheezes at the sight of actual genuinely real hardwood. The whole house was built during a small revival of traditional Japanese styles.
It's only around fifty years old despite looking centuries old. Well, just style wise and not the condition. Being a bit run down looking is just part of life.
"How much is this place again?!" he says wide eyed to Saigen. All he gets is the same listing price.
"10,996,000 yen."
Shuichi coughs, "I can guess how bad it might be, if that's the asking price in this location."
Kokichi hums and remembers the pictures on the site. It hadn't looked like too much of a lemon. The interactive 3d tour had revealed a nice size and layout too. There isn't any real issue with location either, as the house is close to things like supermarkets and convenience stores, and transportation isn't an issue either. It is more rural though…
Then Kokichi sees something black swish in a corner. Again. His eyes narrow, and Shuichi gets forced forward as a meat shield by his loving fiance.
Airi chuckles behind them. She and Saigen must have already talked to the owners of the property. Probably an agent too, but who cares about some ambiguous dude character?
Kokichi follows the mysterious swish down a fairly long hallway. All the while, Shuichi and his parents talk about the house while Kokichi occasionally butt in.
It goes like, 'ah yes the local brewery' and also 'the schools are very good here' until 'I'm pretty sure that the bathroom just now is more haunted than Rantarou's dating attempts'.
Finally, Kokichi is leading the charge into a closet in the very traditional living room. It even has one of those tea fire pit things!
But more important than Kokichi's basically shit word recall…
Shuichi ends up open the closest instead, revealing a large black house cat with maybe six kittens. The momma cat gives them a tired look and floors down for her swarming babies. They immediately jump her.
"Holy shit give me the keys, it is sold." Kokichi says in one breath.
A kitten wiggles with still closed eyes. It mewls.
"Seriously," he turns to the three Saiharae behind him. "This belongs to me now."
Airi's chuckle evolves into a full blown fit of cackling. Her arms wrap around her middle, and Saigen pats her back as his son frets. Kokichi walks over and grins at the three. He holds his arms out and says-
"Now tell me every little thing wrong with it!"
Shuichi's eyes widen when his father pulls out an entire list consisting of little to smallish things. He glances over at Kokichi, to which Kokichi grins further, before he sighs and takes the paper of Not Good Stuff into his hands.
It's a fun day.
"Well, it looks like there's an entire colony of cats that live centered around this particular home," Airi later stages whispers, the four of them having gone out to a small restaurant.
"That is the biggest perk for me though," Kokichi says.
Shuichi is out with Saigen talking about price negotiations. Kokichi would be out there with him if not for how damn hungry he is. Stuff just gets like that sometimes.
Smiling, they continue to chat. There's a vague awkwardness between Kokichi and his, by next June, parents. Which is completely weird to say no matter what, but hey.
Airi sets aside her soba noodles, "I was going to hold off for a bit… but you two are planning on adopting?"
Kokichi slowly nods and watches Airi smile. She's a good decade and a half younger than her husband, and Kokichi is pretty sure that there's a story there.
Another time.
"That's great! Things aren't as bad as when I was younger- it should be much easier for you two than it was for my parents."
"O-oh?" he blinks, chopsticks mid air.
Airi chuckles again and Kokichi sets his chopsticks down entirely.
"Are there any kind of tips you could tell us? Maki and some other people are already giving more personal advice, but," Kokichi trails off in the end.
She sighs, her smile becoming full of old memories, "Don't shy away from adopting an older kid. It'll be harder, yes, and I don't think you'd write them off- but it was worth it for both my parents and myself."
"And the paperwork is awful too, no matter what. Even another century of progress won't change that."
They share a small laugh, because wow if it isn't true. Paperwork is always hell. Even the damn VR console had had some bullshit to fill out.
The old woman's hand gently pats his own.
"Not to say that adopting younger is bad either. There are a lot of babies…" Airi continues.
Kokichi nods, remembering Maki talk about both versions of her orphanage. Even back when Japan's birthrate were low, there had been places entirely dedicated to housing babies given up by their parents. It almost makes Kokichi glad that his falsified memories have him living some cliche 'abused kid runs away and finds a family' fantasy.
"I'm most afraid of making horrible mistakes," he confesses. "I'm scared that I'll end up hurting them."
And he doesn't have to explain what that means- Airi inhales slowly, arms wrapping around him and bringing soft jasmine perfume with them.
"I still think the same thing. Even though the whole damn world has gotten better, I know that it must have been our fault."
Kokichi laughs.
"Shuichi-"
"Not just Shuichi, Kokichi."
Because how can I not blame myself when I could have helped you back then? Kokichi knows to hear.
There's nothing that Kokichi can say to that, but the feeling comes back for the first time in years.
The feeling that he had back then, waking up after dying, blinking aching eyes as his pod opened up. He'd been tried and awake all at once as muddled thought swam through his drugged body. Doctors and TEAM-DR labeled people told him that it was for psychosomatic pain and backlash. Kokichi didn't believe a single speck of it. Especially when the one asshole called him by a name unused for years, obviously just to get a rise.
Desperate tactics for a doomed ship.
Kokichi still remembers the sight of Miu punching someone right in the face. Should have had the foresight to drug her too, but instead some stupid technician got a broken nose.
"I can't really blame you two for that," Kokichi says.
Airi disengages from him. It's a bit disorientating, feeling her warmth leave and seeing the normally bright woman tend to her noodles.
"You should."
Maybe, Kokichi's tapping fingers say. But he doesn't want to.
Kokichi wants to move on from it. Kicking and screaming, he's going to drag that cringing and faceless child out of the depths of his heart. He wants to continue to give it a name. To own it and make it his until Kokichi is all that remains. Because memories or not- it's his life. That will always be part of him.
Unsaid words hang between them in the back booth of a cozy restaurant. In a little bit, somewhere not public, Kokichi and his mother can continue.
There's too much to say over just dinner.
"Aaahhh, I just want a bath!" Kokichi leans back and groans. A duo of tired smiles fill the air.
Fake leather squeaks and the sound of eating starts once more, quiet waiting for the other two Saihara men to finish their own conversation.
By the slightly pinched looks on their faces, paired with no bad news on the house, Kokichi can guess.
But Shuichi doesn't seem to be in a state of much turmoil. Kokichi reaches under the table and gives his hand a squeeze. The smile he gets in return is tight. Too tight. Hmmm!
"Anyway! I was thinking about that medical tattooing stuff and how early it can happen? And I was thinking about what kind of look Shumai might prefer? So, last night I asked since surgery is next month and Miu is almost done her Big Invention project," Kokichi starts babbling.
Shuichi's red ears and slight pout fill Kokichi's vision.
Yeah. The world now is definitely worth it.
Hyacinthium
Writing about sad cannibals as we speak.
- Location
- Bedroom
- Pronouns
- He/Him
That's it for now, but God damn the tenses and everything else is much worse than I remember. How absolutely horrific. I might post other short things not worth their own thread later. That or the Tokyo Ghoul crossover stuff. Kind of testing the waters even if old writing isn't the best option lol. All my other stuff tends to be darker than these, hence the big scary Mature.
And yes it's almost all gay.
And yes it's almost all gay.
Saimota Week Day 1
Hyacinthium
Writing about sad cannibals as we speak.
- Location
- Bedroom
- Pronouns
- He/Him
An unfinished ship week where I only did three days. Probably should have started with this because it's more recent but lol. Motivated entirely by annoying fic trends. There's some talk about dysphoria. The only het stuff I've written, and I should write more of it once I get the time.
Summary: "Shuichi and Kaito go on a romantic vacation, culminating in a confession beneath the night sky, the moon as their only witness."
"Well, it took until the last day of vacation... But we're out here now!" Kaito says, voice loud in their clearing. "Bundled up with blankets and armed."
"With binoculars," Shuichi dryly mutters, shifting closer to the man. It's still a bit cold even with the blankets, but it really just makes the cuddling better. The scent of Kaito's cologne is comforting too- starving out the anxious buzz from being outside in the middle of nowhere.
The sounds of nature really are majestic though. Especially in the night, when even Shuichi's nerves are are quieted by body heat and the night sky. Cityscapes have nothing on stars untouched by light pollution. Constellations, heavenly bodies, and planets. It's been quite some time since Shuichi and Kaito did some simple stargazing.
Always busy with work or school. To think that even Ultimates have to worry about such things- is what a certain friend would say. Not that they're quite the same as other Ultimates. Winning your Talent by going on a disturbed television show lends a layer of separation.
But everyone is different from back then, that's the thought in Shuichi's head as Kaito pulls them closer together. Time to think and grow has gone by since then. Everyone is older and more mature. Everyone has already confronted the nasty little things from pregame and ingame. Everyone is... Happy.
The Detective shifts and barely resists frowning. Kaito's chin, currently clean shaven due to a catastrophic gum related incident, rubs against that one stubborn cowlick. All tucked in together as they stare up at the moon. It should be the height of romantic cuddling, and it mostly is. Their last day on a vacation to a foreign country, full of wine and fireplaces and engagement rings. Shuichi blinks away a stubbornly loose eyelash.
Kaito's throat lozenge clicks against his teeth as the man makes a triumphant noise, "Alright... Those binoculars work great, partner! I'll hand them over and point out the-"
"I want to be a woman."
The throat lozenge stops clicking and the arm around Shuichi's body stills. Not relaxing or tightening at all, Kaito just ceases all action, until the man exhales. Shuichi's eyes slowly close around the burning building up in them. Horror stories- but there's no way that those stories will be coming true tonight. Don't let yourself think that, the Detective thinks on repeat. Moments pass in silence save for enough bug music for Gokuhara to be proud.
"Is- is this about that café that Ouma made everyone go to for his birthday? The crossdressing?" Kaito softly asks, turning on his side as chilly autumn air invades their blankets.
Shuichi's eyes peek open enough to see one worried Astronaut looking down.
"A little bit? You know... How papercuts don't hurt until you see them?" the Detective murmurs, hands fidgeting and fingers bothering a ring covered in constellations. Swallowing, clumped up lead in throat, "And then it hurts more than you think it should while you try to ignore it. Or a light bulb goes on and then it shatters, so all you have is a broken light."
Magenta and gold meet before both of them look away.
"Yeah, I know about that," the man answers, doubtlessly thinking back to screaming and yelling back at a private rehab center- a locked door in between them. Shuichi glances over and finds a pensive kind of expression. Intent eyes gazing up at space as if to find answers.
There's a small moon engraved on the insides of their engagement rings. A nod to how Kaito confessed, just as this last event is supposed to tie into it and how Shuichi proposed. It's a heavy weight on a finger too big, too strong, all wrongly shaped and itchy like a healing papercut. One last stone to throw onto an already fragile eggshell.
Shuichi isn't sure if Kaito will understand the feeling of needing to shave and shave and shave each little speck of body hair. The self-disgust and discombobulation at seeing a too much muscle build up, being too much a man. He already tries to keep Shuichi in training and raises eyebrows at shaving for cycling…
How is Shuichi supposed to explain sneaking a dress home and looking into the mirror and wishing? How is Shuichi supposed to explain that growing out a few more inches of hair as being more than just because, or that the laptop's browsing history gets erased because otherwise there's going to be things like 'how to get estrogen'? All the 'where are consent clinics in Japan' with 'do I need a diagnosis', and 'what doctors are trans friendly' or 'how do I know I'm mtf' and 'bottom surgery healing'? That the site about measuring your body for sizes wasn't just for helping Shirogane. What can Shuichi do if Kaito just leaves because this is the final breaking point in the list of things he ruins-
Why does it have to be so quiet?
"So you'd be my wife instead of my husband? I don't... I don't really get it but... This isn't how Shinguji likes to dress effeminate but he's still a guy?" Kaito hesitantly begins, deep voice fading in and out. "You want to be a woman because- because being a man is painful?"
Swallowing and furiously rubbing at burning wet eyes, Shuichi sucks in air and says a weak, "Yup."
A warm kiss gets pressed into Shuichi's forehead, and for a moment the Detective isn't even sure what it is. No facial hair on Kaito is weird. No tickle, no bristle, no familiar scratch that Shuichi only loves on other people. But it's Kaito kissing Shuichi's hair, then skin- lips soon meeting lips in and way that has Shuichi's emotional damn breaking. Hot tears run down cheeks as if they were asked to, and the man that Shuichi is good to marry tastes like honey lemon with chills.
"I hate it- I hate everything about it and I'm sorry," the Detective whispers, fingers digging into thick fabric, spine tingling with old insecurities roiling.
"Don't apologize for this, partner," and hands hold Shuichi closer into warmth.
The tan skin of Kaito's neck becomes all that gold eyes see. Vision already blurry, Shuichi squeezes those eyes shut as mucus clogs sinuses and throat. Always an ugly crier in real life.
Shuichi's voice wavers, "But I knew. I always knew but it was just such a dull ache and I wasn't ever..."
Trailing off evolves into an embrace full of shudders and gentle kisses. Messy once Shuichi gathers the courage to meet Kaito's lips again. Chapped as always, less now than years ago. Kaito murmurs reassuring words, hands keeping the Detective grounded in a reality where the moon is glowing down on them. With the bugs chirping and autumn chill being fought by coats, gloves, blankets and human warmth.
"You think Angie will be around when we get back?" Kaito asks when Shuichi finds the binoculars again.
"Why?"
A grin full of teeth and affection spreads across the Ultimate Astronaut's face, "Can't let my future wife wear a man's ring, right? She owes me a favor anyway. Gave her an extra lunch ticket back in rehab, and I never cashed it in!"
"Kaito-kun!" Shuichi squeaks, dropping the binoculars tears start up again- but she just laughs and can't even find the deep sound annoying or discouraging.
"Let's look for wedding dresses back at the lodge too..."
A hand covers wobbling lips that stretch from ear to ear. Shuichi laughs wetly again, her ring gleaming, and she says for a second time the same thing with different words.
"Let's get married, Kaito-kun. I- I want to be your wife."
Summary: "Shuichi and Kaito go on a romantic vacation, culminating in a confession beneath the night sky, the moon as their only witness."
_
"Well, it took until the last day of vacation... But we're out here now!" Kaito says, voice loud in their clearing. "Bundled up with blankets and armed."
"With binoculars," Shuichi dryly mutters, shifting closer to the man. It's still a bit cold even with the blankets, but it really just makes the cuddling better. The scent of Kaito's cologne is comforting too- starving out the anxious buzz from being outside in the middle of nowhere.
The sounds of nature really are majestic though. Especially in the night, when even Shuichi's nerves are are quieted by body heat and the night sky. Cityscapes have nothing on stars untouched by light pollution. Constellations, heavenly bodies, and planets. It's been quite some time since Shuichi and Kaito did some simple stargazing.
Always busy with work or school. To think that even Ultimates have to worry about such things- is what a certain friend would say. Not that they're quite the same as other Ultimates. Winning your Talent by going on a disturbed television show lends a layer of separation.
But everyone is different from back then, that's the thought in Shuichi's head as Kaito pulls them closer together. Time to think and grow has gone by since then. Everyone is older and more mature. Everyone has already confronted the nasty little things from pregame and ingame. Everyone is... Happy.
The Detective shifts and barely resists frowning. Kaito's chin, currently clean shaven due to a catastrophic gum related incident, rubs against that one stubborn cowlick. All tucked in together as they stare up at the moon. It should be the height of romantic cuddling, and it mostly is. Their last day on a vacation to a foreign country, full of wine and fireplaces and engagement rings. Shuichi blinks away a stubbornly loose eyelash.
Kaito's throat lozenge clicks against his teeth as the man makes a triumphant noise, "Alright... Those binoculars work great, partner! I'll hand them over and point out the-"
"I want to be a woman."
The throat lozenge stops clicking and the arm around Shuichi's body stills. Not relaxing or tightening at all, Kaito just ceases all action, until the man exhales. Shuichi's eyes slowly close around the burning building up in them. Horror stories- but there's no way that those stories will be coming true tonight. Don't let yourself think that, the Detective thinks on repeat. Moments pass in silence save for enough bug music for Gokuhara to be proud.
"Is- is this about that café that Ouma made everyone go to for his birthday? The crossdressing?" Kaito softly asks, turning on his side as chilly autumn air invades their blankets.
Shuichi's eyes peek open enough to see one worried Astronaut looking down.
"A little bit? You know... How papercuts don't hurt until you see them?" the Detective murmurs, hands fidgeting and fingers bothering a ring covered in constellations. Swallowing, clumped up lead in throat, "And then it hurts more than you think it should while you try to ignore it. Or a light bulb goes on and then it shatters, so all you have is a broken light."
Magenta and gold meet before both of them look away.
"Yeah, I know about that," the man answers, doubtlessly thinking back to screaming and yelling back at a private rehab center- a locked door in between them. Shuichi glances over and finds a pensive kind of expression. Intent eyes gazing up at space as if to find answers.
There's a small moon engraved on the insides of their engagement rings. A nod to how Kaito confessed, just as this last event is supposed to tie into it and how Shuichi proposed. It's a heavy weight on a finger too big, too strong, all wrongly shaped and itchy like a healing papercut. One last stone to throw onto an already fragile eggshell.
Shuichi isn't sure if Kaito will understand the feeling of needing to shave and shave and shave each little speck of body hair. The self-disgust and discombobulation at seeing a too much muscle build up, being too much a man. He already tries to keep Shuichi in training and raises eyebrows at shaving for cycling…
How is Shuichi supposed to explain sneaking a dress home and looking into the mirror and wishing? How is Shuichi supposed to explain that growing out a few more inches of hair as being more than just because, or that the laptop's browsing history gets erased because otherwise there's going to be things like 'how to get estrogen'? All the 'where are consent clinics in Japan' with 'do I need a diagnosis', and 'what doctors are trans friendly' or 'how do I know I'm mtf' and 'bottom surgery healing'? That the site about measuring your body for sizes wasn't just for helping Shirogane. What can Shuichi do if Kaito just leaves because this is the final breaking point in the list of things he ruins-
Why does it have to be so quiet?
"So you'd be my wife instead of my husband? I don't... I don't really get it but... This isn't how Shinguji likes to dress effeminate but he's still a guy?" Kaito hesitantly begins, deep voice fading in and out. "You want to be a woman because- because being a man is painful?"
Swallowing and furiously rubbing at burning wet eyes, Shuichi sucks in air and says a weak, "Yup."
A warm kiss gets pressed into Shuichi's forehead, and for a moment the Detective isn't even sure what it is. No facial hair on Kaito is weird. No tickle, no bristle, no familiar scratch that Shuichi only loves on other people. But it's Kaito kissing Shuichi's hair, then skin- lips soon meeting lips in and way that has Shuichi's emotional damn breaking. Hot tears run down cheeks as if they were asked to, and the man that Shuichi is good to marry tastes like honey lemon with chills.
"I hate it- I hate everything about it and I'm sorry," the Detective whispers, fingers digging into thick fabric, spine tingling with old insecurities roiling.
"Don't apologize for this, partner," and hands hold Shuichi closer into warmth.
The tan skin of Kaito's neck becomes all that gold eyes see. Vision already blurry, Shuichi squeezes those eyes shut as mucus clogs sinuses and throat. Always an ugly crier in real life.
Shuichi's voice wavers, "But I knew. I always knew but it was just such a dull ache and I wasn't ever..."
Trailing off evolves into an embrace full of shudders and gentle kisses. Messy once Shuichi gathers the courage to meet Kaito's lips again. Chapped as always, less now than years ago. Kaito murmurs reassuring words, hands keeping the Detective grounded in a reality where the moon is glowing down on them. With the bugs chirping and autumn chill being fought by coats, gloves, blankets and human warmth.
"You think Angie will be around when we get back?" Kaito asks when Shuichi finds the binoculars again.
"Why?"
A grin full of teeth and affection spreads across the Ultimate Astronaut's face, "Can't let my future wife wear a man's ring, right? She owes me a favor anyway. Gave her an extra lunch ticket back in rehab, and I never cashed it in!"
"Kaito-kun!" Shuichi squeaks, dropping the binoculars tears start up again- but she just laughs and can't even find the deep sound annoying or discouraging.
"Let's look for wedding dresses back at the lodge too..."
A hand covers wobbling lips that stretch from ear to ear. Shuichi laughs wetly again, her ring gleaming, and she says for a second time the same thing with different words.
"Let's get married, Kaito-kun. I- I want to be your wife."
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