Chapter Text
Shuichi took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.
Dawn was finally creeping in, sending warm breezes over the grass field he lay in. It was a relief to feel that cool air roll over the distant trees and coast through him. The wildflowers and overgrown grass tickled his face as he closed his eyes. The branches of the peach tree creaked above him. A couple of leaves shook loose, falling over his head.
He sighed, grateful that the heat of the summer air was cooling off. The branches creaked again, something snapped, and a peach hit his chest.
“Thanks.” Shuichi deadpanned, opening his eyes to see the peach roll off him and tumble into the grass. A pile of peaches was slowly collecting at his side. “Do you have to use me as a landing pad?”
There was a giggle somewhere above his head. “Between the ground and you, I think you’re softer.” The branches shook and a pair of bare feet appeared from the leaves. A second later Kokichi dropped from the tree. “You could catch them too. The ground can’t do that.” Shuichi already closed his eyes again. The day had been hot, the calmness around them made him drowsy. He could hear Kokichi’s steps through the soft and crunchy grass. “I think I picked out nice ones! Whadda think?”
Shuichi rubbed his heavy eyes. “I think…” he broke into a yawn, making a loose gesture. “...I think you should come here.”
There was a breath of silence. Those gentle footsteps through the tall grass stopped at his side. After a moment of shuffling, he heard the quiet sigh as Kokichi rested his head on his shoulder. “Thinkin’ of something?” Kokichi’s head turned towards him. Shuichi couldn’t help but open his eyes and look back.
“Yeah,” Shuichi spoke softly, touching a whisper. “...I think I can finally mean those words again.”
Kokichi scoffed, rocking his head on Shuichi’s arm. “About time! We’ve slept together, bathed together, lived together, technically died together…” His eyes tread back to Shuichi’s serious gaze. Kokichi licked his lips and nodded to the nonexistent scolding. “Right, sorry. I’m listening.”
Shuichi narrowed his eyes. “Nevermind, I take it back.”
“Oh, now you’re living up to your name.”
“That you gave.”
“Yeah, alright, but I’m listening now.”
Shuichi took a deep breath and draped the arm that Kokichi lay on over him. Resting his hand over his chest. “...Good.” He pressed his face to Kokichi’s mess of hair, his lips over his ear, whispering in such a tender way, “...I love you.” He exhaled on the words. Kokichi closed his eyes as he said it. Shuichi felt the way his heart beat just a little bit faster.
It’s a few words he’s said before. But after what hell they went through, he’s had to relearn that feeling, fall in love again, and find the moment to say it.
Because when they woke up from the simulation, they hated each other.
When it ended, the news was delivered to him in intervals. Groggy the first day; it’s a simulation. Exhausted and confused the second day; it really was a show broadcasted to the world. Walking and eating proper meals the third day; the fans of Danganronpa were trying to swarm the center they were in. Sleepless on the fourth day; he remembered a series of moments, he remembered he loved Kokichi.
But he wiped his memory.
He wiped his memory.
He was already ignoring Kokichi since he woke up. He couldn’t bring himself to talk about the horrors Gonta was put through, or why he thought the only solution to Miu’s plan was killing her. Kokichi was a harmless guy that was hiding a pit of darkness inside him, and this killing game brought out the worst in him. That’s how Shuichi saw him.
That permissive darkness bled into everyone’s lives. When Kokichi walks into a room, a choking presence enters with him. He embodied disgust and hatred. He was that looming cloud of obscurity that burned at the touch. The next time Shuichi was passing him in the hall after the fourth day, it all hit him. He loved him, and Kokichi opened up. He loved him, and Kokichi let him in. As if delicately lighting a candle in the wind, he fought hard to keep that fire alive. He loved him, and Kokichi took all he gave, his fire and his light, and with a smile, he blew it out.
The second Kokichi fell into step at his right, he slammed him against the wall.
Kokichi’s gasp of surprise fizzled into a fit of sharp laughter. The blazing fire in Shuichi’s eyes collided with the eternal darkness within Kokichi. “Oh! You remembered, didn’t you? I thought you never would!”
That tantalizing voice mocked him. Shuichi’s glare was already shining with tears. “There’s really no low you won’t sink to.” He spat, his jaw tightening as his nostrils flared. “Everything can be thrown away so long as it benefits you, right? You don’t care! You walked all over me, and you didn’t care!” His fist curled around Kokichi’s shirt that kept him pinned there. “You saw something you could manipulate, and you fucking did!”
“Oh let’s run around and assume things, shall we?” Kokichi’s gaze hardened. “I saved you a lot of hell, and all you choose to see is someone selfish. Maybe I’m not the only selfish one, hm? That ever cross your thick skull? C’mon, Gonta could’ve done better.”
“Selfish?” Shuichi inhaled through his clamped teeth, if he starts yelling then someone will try to break them up. “I- I was with you regardless of what absolute hell you wreaked! I had to figure out your mess because all you like to do is talk in circles! How- How is this selfish!?”
“You really want me to spell that one out for you?” Kokichi glared at him, turning his head to the side as if he was thoroughly disgusted with him. “Y’know Kirumi wasn’t so far off by calling you a self-righteous brat. You always have to play good guy. I told you my plan, and you rejected it. Not because it wouldn’t work, but because you couldn’t handle a little sacrifice--”
“Kokichi- imaging that you would die--” His throat painfully tightened. “How could you blame me?” The first tears spilled over. “I would never agree to a plan like that!”
“I know that, sherlock.” Kokichi rolled his eyes. “And I fixed that issue. You never had to feel that pain and I didn’t have to deal with the fuck ton of guilt knowing I scarred you for life. But look who’s being an ignorant jerk. All you’re thinking is ‘oh poor me- Kokichi stole my memories’ and didn’t consider I did it for our sake. ”
“That doesn’t explain why you jumped to murder!” Shuichi’s voice shook. “I understand Gonta- but why, why did you have to ruin yourself and create that- that plan? You talk about saving me pain but that whole trial- that whole murder-” He let go of Kokichi as his head fell into his hands, trying to rub the tears back.“That alone scarred me! Watching anyone get crushed to death over and over and over--” He choked back a sob. “I hope you’re happy with its outcome!” He took a deep breath to control his rage. “Because this, us, is never happening again!”
Walking away from him felt justified. The hot tears were still falling down his face, and his fists were still clenched. Walking away from the person who sent him through the horrific darkness of that trial--it felt right. He pretended that he never looked back. He pretended he didn’t see Kokichi stand there, so still, as if Shuichi never walked away. He pretended he didn’t catch a glimpse of him sinking to the floor, knees tight to his chest, arms rushing to cradle his head.
He pretended not to see Kokichi break down in the hallway.
No one knew of that interaction. And that following week Shuichi soon regretted not letting people know that he and Kokichi were sworn enemies. The fans of Danganronpa were practically clawing at the center they were kept in. They’ve had too many close calls of fans sneaking into the building to try and see their favorite ‘character’.
It came to a point where if they stepped outside, they would be mauled to bits by ravenous fans hungry for a glimpse of them. It was dangerous. Learning this, Shuichi knew life would probably never be stress-free. He was forever condemned to this life of a star that he never wanted.
The solution came in the form of running away. They all would be split up into groups of two and sent all over the world to shake off the fans. Hopping from place to place would make it impossible to follow after a while. They would get new names, constantly change identities, and run until the heat of the crowd died.
When they were paired up, Shuichi forgot that Kokichi had bad blood with everyone. And since their outburst was never publicly known, he was paired with Kokichi. Since ‘ he got along best with him’.
The first week was miserable.
The amount of awkward tension ate him alive. They were sat together on planes, roomed together in tiny spaces on cheap ships, squished shoulder to shoulder on buses with bench seats and no seatbelts. They exchanged words like “Let’s go”, “Did you get your ticket?”, “I’ll sleep here”, “You wash first”. The tension was killing him.
From Laos to Cambodia, to the Philippines, all the way across the oceans to Australia. They had to talk eventually.
One day Shuichi woke up feeling achy. Throughout the morning he was starting to feel hints of chills crawling up his skin. By late afternoon, he was lying in bed, shivering under the worst fever he’s had in a long time. Waves of heat splashing his system, intense sweats, fading in and out of sleep, waking up from nightmares, not remembering what they were about. It was awful.
Yet there Kokichi was. Soothing him when he woke up with a jolt, crying. He took his temperature every couple hours. 100 went to 102, then to 104. Shuichi can’t trust his memory too much, but he swears Kokichi hardly left his side. He combed his fingers through his hair, running his fingers up and down his arms, whispering things like “Oh bad dreams, you need to let him sleep…” He almost sounded like… “I’ll get you more water,” As if…“ How was your nap?” He sincerely cared about him.
Feeling his hand rest on his forehead like that so tenderly, catching glimpses of his face both completely relaxed and pinched in mild worry or thought, having him lie at his side when he was calming down from a nightmare, something he would have never allowed if he wasn’t sick.
On the day he woke up with his fever dying, Kokichi had fallen asleep next to him on that small bed. He watched him lie there so peacefully. Why would he be right here if he wanted to take advantage of him? Why would he have washed the sweat off his face, made sure he was hydrated, and taken care of him, if he honestly hated him?
Shuichi woke Kokichi up with his weak sobs.
Shuichi sat up, his head in his hands. When he saw Kokichi blink awake, the words tumbled out. “You really care?” His voice was unused and crackly, soft and hurt,“...you don’t hate me?”
Kokichi was quiet for a time. His face was blank, and his eyes were set on the ceiling. All you could hear was Shuichi’s uneven breaths and the morning birds outside. Slowly, with a gentle sigh, he whispered; “Did you not find my final words?”
Shuichi’s heart skipped. Those seemingly random words scrawled on a paper tossed amidst the mess of his room? He sank his head into his hands. Kokichi was always watching out for him. He was always there like he is now. The immediate guilt overwhelmed him. Kokichi loved him. He always, always loved him.
That was a more special morning. A morning of reconciliation. Since then they were able to talk more. Laugh more. Their hands soon became intertwined. Moving from country to country wasn’t mind-numbingly awkward anymore. Currently, they were stopped in North America, posing as a few Americans.
Shuichi glanced at his new passport. He jerked his head to Kokichi. “Chad and John? Seriously? Chad?” This was a whole new low. “Why do I have to be Chad?”
Kokichi had the audacity to look him straight in the face and say, “Cuz you look like one.”
Shuichi whacked him lightly with the faked papers. “I’m picking our names next time.”
They fled to the cheaper parts of the country. Where farmland stretched on for miles and hills rolled endlessly into the tree-dotted horizon. Dirt roads paved the way to the little house they hid out in. An old white fence horribly chipped and peeling away lined the property. They nicked old bikes from a thrift shop that seemed to be from the 1990s. They were rusty but they worked.
Their old bikes were resting against the old stone walls running haphazardly over the hills.
They left their shoes resting on those stone walls. They had walked through the shallow stream that ran down the side of the dirt road, before taking off to the peach tree that sat in the middle of the grass field.
Kokichi traced Shuichi’s jaw, coasting his finger across his cheek. Maybe he wasn’t ready to say it back, but the way he pressed his forehead to his, sliding his hand under his chin, he didn’t need to say a word.
Shuichi let him speak through his body, through his tender hands, and the way he sat up just enough to comfortably sink into a warm kiss. Shuichi let him have complete control. Falling under the way he turned his head and parted his lips. Only breaking apart to trail slow and steady kisses down his neck.
Kokichi was appreciating him. He could feel it in his soft kisses down his skin. Drinking in his presence. He was waiting for this. After all this time of earnestly trying to protect him, Shuichi thanked him by yelling and outright ignoring him. Kokichi should have given him hell. He should have given up on him. Kokichi deserved someone better. Shuichi deserved nothing at all.
“...Hey,” Kokichi brushed the back of his fingers across his cheek, “I can tell when you’re thinking too much.” He lowered his voice to something so deep and close. “...just focus on me. Please.”
Nothing could melt his mind more than Kokichi’s honest desire spoken so tenderly. He surrendered the moment to him. Everything. Everything he would let go of just to give him this.
Night crept across the sky as Shuichi surrendered to the darkness. Because the dark was no longer obscure. No longer scary and suffocating. Kokichi was like the void of a sky. Deep and longing. Loving and vast. Whatever candle he was trying to hold to it, he took it in his hands.
Hold onto my final words. I love you, too.
And blew it out.