Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Pain burned in his arm. It was hard to fight for his remote back when pain was all he could think of, but he managed in the end.

Focusing was a problem for him, because all he can think of is the searing pain in his arm. In fact, he was too focused on that, that he almost didn’t notice the low buzz of the hangar shutter open.

He spares no glance at the looming presence of the Exisal behind him, and instead spends his brain power on thinking up a plan. Naturally, with so many things occupying his thoughts, he didn’t hear the releasing whirr of the Exisal open.

Nor did he hear the hiss of the arrow lodging itself into his spine.

It was only a moment later that he realised he was screaming. A moment to realise that the burning sensation had spread throughout his spine, replicating the arrow lodged in his arm.

He tries to move his legs to turn to his attacker but the pain overwhelms him and suddenly his world is a dizzy mess. Next thing he knows is his eyelids sliding close.

-=[]=-

He wakes up to a room seemingly like his own, though it was free of the mess that crowded the corners. His eyes stare blankly at the empty ceiling, neither happy nor relieved to have Rantarou’s false ones stare back into his soul. He would have enjoyed the avocado’s company after all.

He wants to turn his head to the side, but he’s unable to move past a few millimeters before his control over his neck disappears. From what he can make out from the corner of his blurry sight, a spiky silhouette was settled to his side, while a few others hung around the others.

It scared him, but he won’t admit it. What sort of mastermind would he be if he was afraid of his guinea pigs?

He tries to focus on the ruckus his victims are creating, and concentrates on clearing the blurred image up to truly determine the situation he’s playing into.

“He’s been awake for…” the soft voice of Shuichi was uncharacteristically loud.

“... even know how much damage…?” Oh dear, it seems that he’s missed a few tidbits of dialogue.

He musters up a smile through the pain and focuses past his foggy mind.

What he planned to be casual greeting turned into a painfully throaty groan that really projected how much pain he was in. Shuichi’s eyes widen the slightest bit, but it’s enough for Kokichi to know that his act is up, and that nothing he lies about will be taken seriously.

It means that Shuichi is back to being a lie detecting detective.

It means that he’s not leaving without admitting his lies.

He sucks in a pained breath, and waits.

-=[]=-

Turns out, his body’s definition of ‘waiting’ was slipping out of consciousness again, but that was quickly rejected as Shuichi clamped his nimble hands on his shoulder, grounding him back to reality. His eyes flash with worry before its blinked away to concern.

“Kokichi.” His voice promises a warning. “Don’t sleep.”

Kokichi forces a pout, but it comes as a frown. “But Shumai!” He whines. “I’m sleepy.”

“I know you’re in great pain,” Shuichi sympathises, “but we’d rather have you alive.”

“We…?”

“Yes. We.” Another voice joins.

His eyes flicker to the new voice, and chokes on his breath, alarming the detective.

“Answer our questions Kokichi.” Kaito says.

“Okay!”

“Truthfully.” Shuichi adds.

“Anything for my beloved Shumai!” Kokichi grins, but his pain overwhelms him and causes him to grimace.

Shuichi reacts by reaching out to him, but a muscular hand stops him and leaves his hand hovering in place, before returning it to his side.

“Are you the mastermind?”

-=[]=-

They finish investigating the truth out of him once they flash the thick book with a red hardcover to him, the book that was to leave his possession and land in Kaito’s. He grits his teeth to bear through the pain of revealing his masterplan and the throbbing heat of his arm.

It was horrible. To have the truth be ripped from you all the while having to grin and smile through the literal pain in his arm. Horrible was an understatement. However horrible it was, he’s glad to finally be free of the suffocating stick figures in his vision.

That is to say, Saihara wasn’t one, considering that he remained still in his posture, only moving to sit himself on the sofa in front of the bed.

“This is my room.” The detective provides, and that explains a lot, considering the vast contrast between his empty bookshelf and the one next to him full of Monokuma figurines. It was an odd sight to picture with the detective, but everyone’s got their secrets.

“Hey Shumai.” He beckons the boy. “Did you believe me?”

Shuichi raises a brow. “When?”

“When I said I wasn’t the mastermind.” He retraces. “‘Cuz that was a lie. Ya know, from me, the Ultimate Liar.”

Shuichi hums, his expression clearly portraying his thought process as clear as day. “That talent would have been quite fitting for you.” But alas he shakes his head. “I didn’t believe you.”

Hope rises and Kokichi carefully quenches it down. Perhaps he has a chance to repair his master plan from shambles after all.

He quickly pieces together a plan that will recover his title as the mastermind, but that’s quickly discarded as Shuichi continues to fill the silence.

“But now I do.” He says. “The red book proves it.”

“The red book proves nothing.” He grits his teeth. “It’s a book.”

Shuichi turns from the couch to meet Kokichi’s eyes. “It’s a book about the truth.”

Sleep evaded him. His dreams only consisted of flashes of his assault, invading it with terror that shook him awake.

From the bed, he can hear the soft snores of the detective, allowing Kokichi to deduce that Shuichi had slipped to a sleep heavy enough for him to creep from.

As quietly as he could manage, he shifts his weight so that he can slip off the bed and.

Fails and instead, falls face first with a thud, exposing his body bare of the sheets, his only saving grace being the bloody bandages and his atrocious boxers.

He groans as his head joins in the music, throbbing along in its own beat as his arm and back reminds him of his earlier injuries. It seems that his limbs have fallen asleep on him.

Instead, he is lifted from the floor and back into his spot on the bed by the surprisingly strong detective. He wishes to rub the pain away but finds himself taken aback as the spot next to him becomes occupied by said detective.

He’s further caught off guard when Shuichi wraps his arms around him, securing him to never fall again.

And to never escape, but that’s fine right? This was all Kokichi wanted.

But it wasn’t part of the script.

Further into the night Shuichi miraculously slips back into his deep sleep. Kokichi has become entranced by Shuichi’s breathing pattern, that he notices his heart now dances to it.

Damn it, this is not the time for silly crushes.

He tries to squirm out of Shuichi’s hold, but his only saving grace were his legs which weren’t caught by the detective. As softly as he can, he swings his legs around the edge of the bed and-

Wait, why aren’t his legs moving?

He pokes his head out of the tangle of arms and tries to wiggle his toes, only to have it disobey and remain still. Now that he thinks about it, ever since he was shot by the assassin, he’s never had his legs move.

He manages an arm out of Shuichi’s cage and stretches as far as he can to his leg, only able to reach his thigh at best. He waits for a small sting as he proceeds to poke his thigh, only to be able to feel absolutely no sensation at all.

What the hell is going on?

For the entirety of the night, he tries to piece the facts together. However, he’s pulled so many all nighters in previous nights that his brain has been overworked to the point where he blanks out once he’s so close to having it all pieced together.

It’s at times like these where he wished he had his book or whiteboard.

He turns his head to the side to inspect the contents of Shuichi’s bedside table, slightly disappointed that the detective doesn’t have a notepad of sorts found in the movies.

But there was a pen.

He is awoken from his dreamless sleep groggy with messy scribbles lining his arms and hands. His masterpiece; a work of art.

A work of art Shuichi insisted to wash off.

“Can I have my red book back?”

Shuichi fixes him with a contemplative stare. “What are you planning?”

“My death.” He replies sarcastically. “My book.”

Shuichi continues to stare.

Kokichi grits his teeth. “Please.”

He finds his book on the bed after Shuichi helps him clean himself to his pure and pale skin. Along with the book were an assortment of colourful gel pens.

He had his bandages rewrapped and quickly slipped into covers with help provided by the detective and got to work. He furiously scribbled across the worn pages of his book, choosing a different route from his usual self-destruction.

After a while of supervising the hazard, Shuichi leaves to bring breakfast for them, clarifying to Kokichi that he’ll lock the door for his sake rather than Shuichi’s. But Kokichi knew that was a lie; he didn’t want Kokichi to go anywhere.

It wasn’t like he could anyway.

With a click, Kokichi releases the breath he didn’t know he was holding, and writes in a calmer pace. It’ll take a while for Shuichi to do his chore, especially if the astronaut and assassin had anything to do with it.

In fact, he’s sure that by the end of this task, he’ll be out of this dorm as soon as he finishes his breakfast. Really though, he had no one to blame but himself.

Without noticing, his steady writing becomes shaken as his words becomes crooked and strays from the faded lines provided by the book. He takes a break and a breath, calming his heart before he continues.

He’s failed his self-destructive plan; his only chance at redemption. At least, if he was able to go through with that plan, he’d be able to leave behind his existence as evidence to counter all the lies spouted by the mastermind.

But now, he was reduced to an incapable liar, pathetic enough to earn pity from someone who hated him to the core.

Hot tears flush down his cheeks and for once he’s unable to will them away as easily as before. Well, that’s a lie, if Gonta had anything to do with it.

His hand trembles as his grip on the pink gel pen tightens and shakes with instability. He sucks in hot and quick breaths in a vain attempt to slow down his rapid heartbeat.

Damnit, now is not the time to get a panic attack.

And it didn’t help that Monokuma decided to pop up at this time.

-=[]=-

Shuichi walks in with a tray of Kokichi’s breakfast, which mainly comprised of a canned soup heated up and served alongside some amateur rice. Behind him trailed Maki, who was reluctant to help him with Kokichi’s injuries.

“He’s not the mastermind.” He insists, amd Maki grunts. “Besides, I don’t want you executed because he died from an infection.”

Maki sighs.

They enter Shuichi’s room with a swift click of the lock, and he’s glad he somehow managed to not drop the food at the mess they walked in on.

On the floor was Kokichi, bare of clothes and merely dressed in his obnoxious boxers and novice bandages that had loosened in its fall. Unlike last time, Kokichi was actually on the floor, rather than only his upper half. His hands seemed to be gripping something in an insane chokehold.

Shuichi gently places the tray by the shelf and quietly approaches the boy on the floor. As he gets closer, he notices Kokichi shaking; either cold from the exposed air or high on anger.

He settles on the former for now, and kneels down, placing his hand softly on Kokichi’s, which results in his grip slackening and his head snapping up to meet Shuichi’s.

Ah, what a sight. It wasn’t rare to see the liar cry, but to see it so genuine that his eyes and cheeks flush red was a rarity. The only other time he got to witness this was in the previous trial, which he now realises was Kokichi’s Ultimate Lie.

It was truly a sight to behold.

The boy merely emits pained cries, and instinctively Shuichi pulls him into his chest, where the boy continues to sob his heart out with muffled incoherence.

Maki stood there awkwardly, but her presence remains unseen by the hysterical boy, who soon falls asleep in Shuichi’s arms. With practised movement, he easily slips his hands behind the boy’s back and under his knees, lifting him back to the bed, which is now piled up with pillows, allowing Kokichi to sit up, courtesy of Maki.

He sneaks a glance at what Kokichi was holding in a death grip and slightly pales.

It was one of his Monokuma collectibles, his hand grooved into the connecting base of the head and body, where he had it in a deadly chokehold.

He spins around to meet Maki. “What mastermind would attempt to kill their mascot?”

“You’ve made your point Shuichi.” Maki seethes. “Unwrap his bandages.”

He does as instructed and Maki lifts his arm, inspecting it.

“Just keep changing the bandages of this one and take the stitches out once it’s healed enough.” She advises. “I’ll show you how to wrap it.”

She proceeds to pull a new roll of bandage from the First Aid pack and demonstrates with skilled accuracy.

“Now unwrap the bandage on his chest and lie him on his stomach.”

Shuichi does as told and Maki proceeds to hover over her victim, inspecting her damage done on this rat. The arrow had landed precisely dead center of where his spinal cord was. She had intended to render him inescapable.

She got what she wanted. Now he was bound to that bed forever, never to leave without the help of those who hated him.

The scar was a grotesque red that was crudely stitched up by Tsumugi in a vain attempt to stop him from losing blood. The blood that managed to trickle out of that hole was thankfully clotted and dried to a dark red.

It was a nasty picture, and she was glad that it was only her and the detective who got to see this sight.

“Keep the wound clean, that way infections won’t be a problem.” She says. “Keep changing his bandages, and make sure he doesn’t accidentally rip the stitches in one of his episodes.”

Shuichi nods numbly and proceeds to wrap Kokichi’s midsection with mute silence. He stands back to his full height and bows gratefully to the assassin.

“Thank you Maki.” He says.

“No worries.” She sighs. “I don’t know why you insist on keeping him well. It’s not like he’ll help us after all this.” He’s a remnant of despair, was left unsaid.

“Uh about that.” He perks. “Can we do anything about his paralysis?”

Maki blinks. She could say no and break Shuichi’s hope and probably doom them all to despair. Or she could pull a Kokichi and… tell a half truth.

She prepares herself. She may not be a good liar as Kokichi was-is, but she’ll try.

Not for his sake of course, but for Shuichi’s.

“Not that I know of.”

Hope rekindles in the gold eyes of the detective, and Maki can’t tell whether she done the right thing or not.

Chapter Text

Each night he is plagued with graphic dreams of what ifs.

What if Gonta had failed him?

What is Miu had killed him?

What if Miu had doomed them all?

He would be forced awake into the awful reality of a greater what if.

What if Maki had killed him?

He’d be lulled back to sleep once Shuichi wraps his nimble around him, beckoning him back to his side and into the land of dreams.

He rarely has dreams of DICE, and he’s glad for it.

He would do anything to erase the disappointment off their masked faces once they know of the atrocities he committed whilst trying to survive this sick game of death. He has his own disgust to bear through.

-

He’s back in the world of reality as Shuichi’s hand wraps around his lanky arm. They were truly the opposite of each other; where one bore the colours of black, the other shined in the colour of white. Where one sought the truth, the other provided lies.

Where one was loved, the other was hated.

It was a vicious cycle, but it was what balanced the game.

There’s no hero without a villain.

That’s what he insists anyway when he’s back into Shuichi’s chest, crying his lungs out once more.

Huh, maybe he should stop doing that.

Doing what? He asks himself. What was he doing?

Ah right. Being pathetic. But why was it so dull? Shuichi wonders. What happened to all that energy?

Kokichi’s back to staring into the air and Shuichi feels tempted to sneak out and ask others for help. He knows that he can message Maki for assistance with the boy’s injuries, but he knows Kokichi’s stance on her talent that he doesn’t bother asking for her presence.

Instead, his finger hovers over the portrait of the robot. Perhaps he’ll take Kiibo out on that offer of his.

After all, Kokichi seems to enjoy taunting him enough.

But was that all just an act? Or was that how he truly felt?

How can someone so broken be so complicated?

-=[]=-

Seeking refuge in Kiibo’s company done good for him and Kokichi. The room had been stuffy from each other’s presence that it became unnerving. The change in presence helped the two to cope with the pain in their broken minds.

Kiibo suggested that they take a walk, but once he meets Kokichi’s dead stare, he knew that his idea was silly and quickly excused himself out.

With the two only having each other for company once more, Shuichi thinks that Kiibo’s idea isn’t too preposterous to try out.

Now if only Miu were still here to help with Kokichi’s disability.

-

Turns out the outdoors was something that balanced well with Kokichi. Huh, who knew?

On his back was Kokichi, his only support being the boy whose arms hooked under his legs and held onto the base of his butt. Kokichi was clothed in Shuichi’s loosest clothing. His oversized white shirt draped past his hip and was crumpled into Shuichi’s palm, while his lower section was slipped into loose shorts that ran down past his knee.

Shuichi himself was dressed more casually, forgoing his detective jacket and uniform in favour for a short sleeved shirt that allowed the breeze to make its way onto his arm.

Shuichi had brought his hat along, situating it on Kokichi’s head in hopes of the boy not catching a heat stroke.

“Aw, does Shuichi care about me that much?” Kokichi teases which causes Shuichi’s cheeks to redden slightly. “Well then it’s a good thing that I love you so much Shumai!”

Shuichi merely smiles. Nowadays it’s rare to see Kokichi so lively.

Maybe they should go outdoors more often.

-

They’re seated on the overgrown grass of the abandoned school. Kokichi has Shuichi’s hat atop his head, covering it from the sun’s wrath. Even as the hat covers it, his hair remains resilient and sticks out from under it in purple curls.

“Ah is Shuichi trying to die on me?” Kokichi’s voice is light as a smile curls around his pale lips. “Was this your plan? To catch a heat stroke while you have me framed using your hat?”

“A-ah, no.” He’s tempted to play along, but the truth escapes anyway.

Kokichi tuts him. “You’re an awful liar Shumai! Leave the lying to me!” He grins and in a blink half of his world is covered by the hat’s beak.

“There! Now I can die like I planned!” He laughs and falls back to the grass.

Shuichi frowns, but gives up and joins in the laughter. “Kokichi.”

“Hm?” He hums.

“Don’t die on me.”

Kokichi stares, his eyes curled into its own smiles.

“Please.”

They stare back into the sky, their gazes unwavered as they challenge the mighty sun.

“Anything for my Shumai.”

-=[]=-

They’re back in the hall of the dorms, approaching closer to Shuichi’s room.

“Hey Shumai?” Kokichi calls, and Shuichi wonders where the hell he nicked that name from.

“Yeah?” He hums.

Kokichi rests his head atop Shuichi’s hat. “Can we go to my room for a change?”

Shuichi thinks about it for a moment. “Where’s your key?”

Kokichi smiles slyly, though it goes unnoticed by the boy carrying him. “Inside.”

“How do you plan to get in?” Shuichi deadpans.

“Ha! You underestimate me yet again!” He throws his arms into the air and Shuichi takes several careful steps to balance the two. “Have you already forgotten my super awesome lock picking skills?”

Ah right. This broken boy he’s nursing has quite the variety of skill.

“Oh.” Shuichi pauses. “Do you have your tools?”

Kokichi’s grin widens, and from the depths of his borrowed shorts, he pulls out wires bent to best suit his capability.

“Of course.”

-

Kokichi insists that he let him work on the lock while Shuichi goes back to his room to pack his stuff. Shuichi casts a worried glance at the boy, who waves him of his worries. “It’s not like I’m gonna die!”

He says this as his red book details several murders planned upon himself. Still, Shuichi takes the chance and thinks, this will be a good trust exercise.

But of course, this was Kokichi Ouma. The Highschool Level Asshole and Ultimate Troll.

With his belongings in his hand, Shuichi knocks and the door opens the slightest crack.

“Password?”

Damnit Kokichi.

-

From the floor of his room, Kokichi has fun messing with Shuichi before he decides that Shuichi’s torment has gone on for long enough and allows the door to swing open.

From the door, Shuichi looks down and sees the Supreme Leader on his knees, a content and bright smile settled upon his face. He dumps his stuff in the crack of empty space within the collateral mess of a room, and returns to his ward and proceeds to slip his hands under the boy as support, before gently lying him down on his bed.

He made the mistake of looking up.

-

As Shuichi lays beside Kokichi’s side, Rantarou continues to haunt him with his dead-fish stare. Even in death he’s able to emit that cool aura that charmed Kaede. It’s quite the irony that they died because of the other.

Shuichi sighs and rolls onto his stomach, consciously ignoring the way the wax figure burns holes into his back and instead opts to drape an arm around the other boy.

He’ll have to get used to this.

-=[]=-

He wakes up first the next morning. It’s not really a morning if the sun hasn’t made its appearance. Truth be told, he was haunted by the piled mess of cardboard and paper that suffocated Shuichi with its claustrophobic height.

The cardboard boxes that were stacked tall and probably higher than Kokichi had stood its full height the whole night, its unwavering presence lingering in Shuichi’s mind as he fails to fall asleep.

It was more haunting than the Rantarou figure above him.

He muffles a chuckle and slips out of bed, making sure to keep the boy tucked into the safe confines of the blanket.

He has a case to solve.

-

The whiteboard provides him a great hint and direction as to Kokichi’s stance around the other students. It was unfortunate that his deduction of Kokichi’s hate towards the assassin was proven correct, though he breathed a sigh of relief as he sees himself in his own corner.

Trustworthy?

He’ll work hard to have that question mark erased.

-

Seeing Kaede’s face once again was an unpleasant welcome. His heart dropped as he remembers her stricken face as soon as they had caught the culprit.

Her face had been ugly with raw and unfiltered sadness, tears streaking down every untouched surface of her distraught face.

It was awful to relive.

Her promise. He remembers. Have you honoured it?

He rips his gaze away in favour of the evidence stacked up on Kokichi’s desk.

I’m trying.

-

After sorting through the evidence quickly he lands himself with one last task.

The cardboard boxes.

With a resigned sigh, he pulls one of the wavering boxes off of its height and peaks into its contents.

Paper? No, he inspects closer and notices the childish doodles drawn upon it. He would have immediately discarded the boxes away, but his instincts push him to investigate further.

It’s not like he has anything else to do.

-=[]=-

Paranoia.

It was the one word he could think off the top of his head to describe the mess he had just sorted through.

Amidst all of the childish doodles, plans, blueprints and designs of all kinds lay trapped under the innocent facade. It was a good thing he had followed his detective instincts, or else he wouldn’t have found notes that had eventually formed into the plan formulated in the daunting red book.

He hears the sheets shift as Kokichi squirms himself awake, and so he quickly snatches the keys that sit in the corner of the room, dust layered atop its surface as it had seemingly remained there since its placement. It must have been lonely being in the room by itself, unable to fulfill its job as the door’s key.

He greets Kokichi with a hopeful smile as an idea pops into his head.

Chapter Text

They sit in the empty room of the dining table, the lights off as the ambient rays of the morning sun pours into the room, lighting it with the soft hues of the calm skies. In front of the two boys were plates of food identical to the other, both of them replicating the image of the other as they dig into the food Shuichi generously prepares.

The food is well cooked but not on par with the passed maid’s skills. They enjoy the peace and tranquility of the early morning before they know it’ll be ruined by the other inhabitants of the entrapment.

“Himiko usually sleeps in.” He fills in the quiet with his notes. “The others usually come when the announcement rings.”

Kokichi hums as he swallows with slight difficulty. “How long will that be?”

Shuichi looks at his tablet, but his internal clock knows that there’s only a few more minutes until the morning announcement chimes.

“Four minutes.” He says. There’s no point in hiding something so trivial.

Kokichi grins as he sets aside his utensils alongside his half-eaten plate of food.

“Well then, I guess we should take our leave now.”

-

Shuichi gives the boy the option to choose their destination for the day. Oddly enough he picks Miu lab as today’s visit.

They shuffle through the grass that covers her lab from sight and slowly walk in, with Shuichi creeping his head in before Kokichi leans forward and pokes his head too.

The first thing they’re met with is the sheer mess the inventor has left the state of her lab in. To be fair, she most certainly hadn’t planned on dying with her master plan. They walk into the lab and are careful to not trip on any of the scattered mess Miu had left behind.

“Why did you want to go here?” He asks, because he’s genuinely curious. Of all the places to visit, he chose the one who had planned his death (too)?

“The slut probably left some useful stuff in her pigsty.” He says and points Shuichi to the direction he wants to search in.

In the end, they leave with Kokichi seated in a wheelchair, Shuichi behind him and pushing him back to the dorms.

-

They are unable to wheel Kokichi up the stairs, and so they spend the night in Shuichi’s abode instead.

Although Kokichi pouts at having to be back in Shuichi’s room again, Shuichi breathes himself a relieved sigh at the thought of not having the mess keep him up at night. It was a relieving thought to finally be away from Rantarou’s haunting eyes.

He seats Kokichi on his bed once more, rearranging the pillows in a more comfortable manner before he leaves to Kokichi’s room in search of the boy’s clothes, specifically his pyjamas.

Left alone in the room once more, Kokichi pulls out the red book from its hiding within Shuichi’s bedside table and flips to a random page. It was time to lay the evidence down.

From what he can recall, Maki hadn’t shot him down for the petty reason of stealing Kaito. Well she did, but she had some greater reason, after all, why would she be so eager to kill him?

Oh right, because he was acting as the mastermind.

He scratches his head as he goes about another direction, drawing a mind map that would draw him out to the truth of Maki’s attempted assassination. Unfortunately, he doesn’t get far, he doesn’t have all the evidence needed.

He needs the detective.

-

Shuichi enters the room and releases the anxiety that has strung up his body. He was pleasantly surprised when he saw his room wasn’t in shambles, and that no other Monokuma collectible hadn’t found its end under Kokichi’s weight.

Still, the gaze Kokichi has him pinned under freaks him out just a little, but he’s too proud for Kokichi to worry that much for.

He sets Kokichi’s belongings down and proceeds to peel the boy of his current clothes before he unwraps the bandages to reveal the injuries that have slowly begun its repair. He notices the stitches on the arm slowly tear itself away, so Shuichi helps it out and pulls it off.

“Hey Shuichi.” Kokichi calls. “What is ‘despair’ to you?”

Remnant of despair, Monokuma’s voice rings loud and clear.

“Uh.” Shuichi thinks. “I don’t know. The most I’ve been in was depression.”

“Aw! Are you saying Kaede’s death didn’t fill you with despair?” Kokichi’s smile turns malicious, shadows contorting around the crescents of his eyes.

Suddenly he’s back in the trial groom, his lungs constricted as Kaede’s was. He tears his eyes away from the inhumane torture Kaede’s forced through, and instead rests his gaze on the floor, his ear throbbing out the sound of the girl’s chokes.

As soon as he blinks, he’s back in his room, Kokichi’s hands clamped desperately on his shoulders. He looks up (up? Isn’t he taller?) and meet Kokichi's shaky gaze. He realises his legs have crumpled on its own, causing him to slip past Kokichi’s height. Tears have grouped up in his eyes, awaiting their release to begin their race.

“That,” Kokichi breathes, and Shuichi detects the falter in his voice, “is despair.”

How do you know?

Oh right, remnant of despair.

-=[]=-

They let their day pass by peacefully, the occasional knock calling Shuichi from Kokichi’s side, only to return to him with a tray of two bowls.

Night quickly slips in and Shuichi succumbs to sleep quicker than Kokichi does, leaving him wide awake within his arms.

The Monopad to his side buzzes and lights up with a notification, but his hands have been entrapped within the secure arms of the detective.

Whatever message that awaits him will have to wait a little longer.

To the very special recipient of this message,

Congratulations! You have been given the privilege to save the lives of your classmates.

However, in return, one of them will be doomed for the remainder of their lives.

Who will you choose?

> Ouma Kokichi
K1-B0
Saihara Shuichi
Momota Kaito
Harukawa Maki
Yumeno Himiko
Tsumugi Shirogane

An invitation from the mastermind themselves. A game of chase.

A game of chess.

He will prevail.

There's no choice.

-=[]=-

Turns out, choosing who to doom was a lot more difficult than what Kokichi had anticipated. He thought it would have been a simple choice- pick himself and be done with life to relieve himself of his sins, redeeming himself.

However, this was also a chance to checkmate the mastermind in their own game.

Hm. What a choice.

-

They are called by Monokuma to join him in the gymnasium. Kokichi holds on tight to Shuichi’s hand, slightly scared of what Monokuma has in mind for him after his little stunt as the ‘mastermind’.

He swallows away his fear and as they enter the hall, his trademark smile is plastered on, however, it falters as Maki’s gaze meets his and softens.

What the hell?

Himiko meets his eyes and withers under the sudden contact, murmuring her usual incoherence under her breath. Kaito won’t even meet his eyes while Kiibo, on the other hand, scans him analytically. He would call the robot out for it, but Monokuma begins his speech before he can.

“Hello again my dear students!” He greets. “It is an unfortunate outcome that so many have died!” He proceeds to bawl his eyes out (somehow). “Waah! My beloved cubs! What a tragedy!”

“Hey! If you’ve got something important to say to us, then say it!” Himiko shouts before she succumbs to her never-ceasing fatigue. “Nyeh, if it’s not important, then I’m just gonna sleep.”

“Hey!” Monokuma snaps out of his tears. “You’re gonna want to hear this! It’ll dictate your life!”

Everyone’s breaths hitch and Kokichi’s heart hammers in his chest. He’s going to announce it.

“One of you lucky bastards have the ability to save everyone.” He pauses, drawing out the tension and raising the anxiety of the remaining participants. “But at the cost of one person.”

“And they will be the means of your escape; the Ultimate Judgement.”

All chaos ensues after.

-

You’re quite the actor.

Let’s see if you can weed out the liar.

-The Mastermind

-

He narrowed his choices down to him, Maki, Kiibo and Tsumugi.

He and Maki have gone through a lot together with blood staining both of their hands for different reasons. At least, if he picks Maki, she’ll be able to redeem herself from her murderous past.

Or maybe he should leave her out, he did kidnap her not-lover from her.

Kiibo was a robot. Simple as that. He has no sin, nor life to taint, therefore, death won’t be a problem for him to face. However, he had done the robot so much wrong that he quickly scribbles Kiibo from his book.

Now Tsumugi on the other hand was free of sin. Or well, her hands weren’t as bloody as his were. However, unlike the other participants, she had suffered the least.

Himiko suffered with the loss of her two best friends snatched from her by a person who had longed for blood.

Kaito is currently suffering with his terminal illness, further deepening Maki’s despair.

Shuichi has been suffering all this time under the weight of his promise with the pianist.

Kokichi himself has been suffering with the weight of all the truths that threaten to flatten him to nonexistence, but he knew he deserved it and more.

Who will you choose?

> Ouma Kokichi
K1-B0
Saihara Shuichi
Momota Kaito
Harukawa Maki
Yumeno Himiko
Tsumugi Shirogane

He taps.

-=[]=-

They gather in the class trial for the last time. In his podium is a seat that can be adjustable to any height with the ability to swivel around. If only he had this back when he was bleeding his head out.

The mystery that they will solve today will be the story of their imprisonment, entrapment, and the mastermind, and by proxy, the Ultimate Judgement.

Their evidence is shifty and disheveled. Shuichi has a hard time piecing together this mystery than the ones before, mainly because of how uncoordinated and rushed this whole trial was.

Kokichi keeps quiet and points out errors and evidences, and leads the group on to the truth.

He meets the mastermind’s gaze and smiles.

-

The revelation of Tsumugi’s role as the mastermind was quite a shock for the remaining students, however, its was so lackluster he almost forgot that he knew beforehand. Her only saving grace was the fact that she could shapeshift (cosplay) in and out of the former students of Hope’s Peak.

Then came the mystery of the Ultimate Judgement.

They all wait with baited breath, even Tsumugi. Hm, at least she’s playing fair.

The silence stretches on, and all one could hear was the beating of their own heart.

Shuichi turns.

-

He’s not sure whether to be surprised that Shuichi had pinpointed him to be the Ultimate Judgement or not, but he can definitely say that he’s proud of the detective. Throughout the latter end of the trial he has been silent, his seat twisted so that they can’t see his face to gauge his reaction to certain statements made.

However, it was quite confusing when they started pulling out terms like ‘remnant of despair’ or ‘Junko Enoshima’. It pissed him off to hear himself framed as a bitch’s follower, but patience is a virtue and Shuichi manages to defy those statements in his stead.

Apparently, on the odd days that he had slept before Shuichi (which was in his own room apparently) Shuichi had the time to look through his stuff and find his motive video, detailing the pacifist nature of DICE and how the despair went against all his principles. He snuck Shuichi a quick smile of gratitude.

In the end, as the survivors walk out, Kokichi remains bound in the chair he has damned himself in. Shuichi steals one last hesitant glance at him, which Kokichi notices is glistening. He offers the detective one last smile, and he returns one back, before appearing to Kokichi's side and setting a kiss upon his forehead.

“I’m sorry Kokichi.” He whispers.

“What are you sorry for my love?” Kokichi smiles, because that’s all he can do to comfort him now. “I broke our promise.”

Shuichi cries and even though his hands are bound, he uses his lips to kiss the tears away.

The walls begin to shake and Kiibo begins his assault on the school.

He whimpers and Shuichi holds him close.

“I’m so sorry my love.”