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He’s surrounded by destruction. Every place Shuichi looks is splitting and cracking, rubble covering most of the ground and a thin layer of brown dust hanging in the air, clinging to his clothes and sweating forehead.
Shuichi takes a deep breath, only to end up sneezing. He rubs at his nose, worriedly noticing how they’re starting to clog, the sting in his eyes bringing up tears to gather at his eyelashes. His chest also aches, so Shuichi rubs at it too, though he doubts that’s related to the dust problem.
Through bleary eyes, he glances up at the gaping hole in the ceiling, the cracks bringing light in to show the outside of something Shuichi doesn’t understand. It’s not the first time he’s felt lost in this school, but now it’s especially strong. Like the world has been broken and pieced back together too many times, one too many for him to even begin to process.
And if Shuichi thinks about it, he’s not even sure what’s true, not sure which of the many lies he’s been fed is qualified to be considered reality.
He rubs harder at his chest, pressing down on it and leaving burning imprints of his own touch against his sternum. Shuichi takes a gulp full of air, but there’s no oxygen in his lung, so he must not be breathing hard enough—
“That’s one hell of a celebration party you’re having, Shuichi.”
It cuts through, through the fog in his mind, through the weight in his stomach—it lifts at first, easing the pain, but drops right back down with added pressure. Shuichi whips around, eyes wide, because this is impossible, it’s, he is—
“Kokichi…?” He didn’t mean for it to come out so broken, in a hushed whisper that cracks midway through, as if afraid that he’ll shatter the illusion if he speaks it any louder.
Kokichi, with his brilliant purple eyes, gives him an assertive gaze before letting a grin fill his face. Easygoing. Unconcerned.
“I mean, duh, who else? You know any other supreme leaders in black and white clothes?” Kokichi tilts his head, fringe falling into his eyes—it had always been too long; Shuichi had noticed as much before, but now more than ever. “So, what’s the pity party about?”
Kokichi stares at him the way only he could do: open and playful, but with an unsettling feeling behind it. Eyes too attentive for someone who always said their situation was just a game (but wasn’t it?). Shuichi inhales sharply, feels dirt scratch the inside of his lungs and coughs.
He’s grateful for the excuse to close his eyes.
But Kokichi, well, he has always known more than anyone else in the room, with a perception to rival Shuichi’s own. He takes one look at the hole, stares at it with open disgust and glances back to Shuichi.
“Oooh,” he says under his breath, “I get it now.”
Does he?
Shuichi doesn’t say anything, doesn’t have the words. He can barely think of where to start, can barely think at all, so he stays rooted to his spot, mouth clamped shut and letting the dust wash his air ducts.
Then, maybe because Shuichi stayed up silent for too long (Kokichi always hated a lack of response, didn’t he?), Kokichi’s face scrunches up and there’s soon loud crying filling the still silence of what was the schoolyard.
“Kok—” Shuichi reaches for him on instinct, moved by the sight of the fat tears rolling down Kokichi’s face, moved by the desperation to stop the piercing cries.
“You’re just gonna leave like that?! That’s so unfair, you’re so cruel, Shuichi!” Kokichi yells, pausing Shuichi’s movements, who flinches back in confusion. “You’re the worst!”
“That’s not…” Shuichi blinks at Kokichi, who cries harder. He winces. “I don’t get what you’re saying.”
“Who’s gonna play games with me now, huh? I’m supposed to be bored here forever?” The crying goes down, the tears are miraculously already gone. But there’s red rising in his cheeks, his cowl is still in place, but becoming sharper. “Of course you’re leaving! You’re a pathetic, goody two shoes with empty words, Shuichi!”
Maybe it’s overexposition to Kokichi, but that barely affects Shuichi, who’s left with rising bewilderment. He runs a hand through his hair, takes a moment to count a few pebbles on the ground. Once he’s sure his mind is properly working, Shuichi looks back up at Kokichi.
“I’m not just leaving, okay? You know, you could…” Shuichi swallows thickly. “Why don’t you just come with me?”
That gets Kokichi to… Well, Shuichi isn’t sure if he’s calmed down, but all traces of emotion fall from his face, all that’s left is a blank expression that seems to be trying to tell Shuichi something.
Kokichi sighs as he drops to the ground, legs crossed. He presses his cheek to his fist and, when he gazes up, Shuichi can see the bags under his eyes. “I can’t.”
“You can’t?”
“Nope!” He pops the “p” at the end, followed by a casual shrug. “That was just a lie anyways, it’s just fun messing with you.”
“Good to know I’m entertaining you,” Shuichi replies dryly. He watches Kokichi pick at a thread of his clothes with obvious boredom. “…Don’t you want to?” Kokichi rolls his eyes towards Shuichi again, and he hums in acknowledgement of the question. “Go, I mean. Don’t you have anyone waiting?”
Kokichi shrugs again. “Eh, not really,” he says simply, not elaborating further. “Doesn’t matter anyways.”
Shuichi keeps on watching him, the twitch of his fingers that Kokichi can’t quite hide, the mess of his hair. Something in Kokichi’s appearance makes Shuichi’s ribs break, every breath of air painful. It doesn’t go unnoticed, and soon enough Kokichi is glaring at him.
“I don’t want your pity, you know. It was fun while it lasted, you’ll go on with whatever you do and never see me again.” Kokichi huffs “You’ll live happily and forget that I even existed. As simple as that.”
“I won’t,” Shuichi says, surprised by the iron in his own voice. Kokichi seems to be caught off guard as well, eyes widening slightly. “It’s not as simple as that.”
“Of course it is. Why would you want to remember? Knowing you, you’ll probably go out of your way to make sure it’s out of your mind.” Kokichi scoffs. “One day of talking to Kaede doesn’t fix you, Shuichi.”
“I know it doesn’t!” Shuichi shouts. Kokichi frowns, eyes heated; Shuichi returns the gaze with equal fervor. “Stop dictating my feelings, stop playing with me, stopping hiding behind your lies!” Shuichi crouches next to Kokichi, hand flying to Kokichi’s scarf, catching it in a fist to pull Kokichi closer. To force him to look into his eyes. “I wont’t forget. I never will.”
Kokichi lets out a tense laugh, but his smile looked more like a grimace. He didn’t try to push Shuichi away.
“Then promise it.”
“Kokichi—”
“Promise it!”
Kokichi’s voice is scorching with anger, but his eyes are shining with uncertainty, with vulnerability and a number of things Shuichi can’t understand. Never would, he never got a chance to, no matter how much he wanted to be let in, to catch a glimpse. No matter how much he wanted to hold Kokichi’s shoulders and ask him who was he.
“I—Kokichi—”
“Shuichi!” Another voice calls.
Shuichi snaps his head towards whoever it is, hand going lax and falling to his knees. He can see Maki’s long hair blowing in the wind, and she’s close enough for him to see her worried expression. “Shuichi…?” She says again, softer.
Shuichi tries to reply, but his voice fails him, a weird noise leaving his throat in its place. He’s hiccupping, he realizes. Sobbing. Choked up and awful, grating to his own ears. His entire body shakes, tears fall from his wide open eyes.
Shuichi raises his hand to his mouth, maybe to muffle the pathetic sounds, but feels soft fabric instead. Shuichi stares at the checkered scarf until he can’t bear to keep his eyes open anymore. He presses the scarf harder against his lips.
“I promise.”