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After Shuuichi and Maki leave, Kokichi struggles to stay upright as he makes his way down the stairs. Everyone else had already passed by him, and without any of them watching him—though he was certain he was, of course, being watched regardless—he uses the wall to support his weight. Nearly falling a second time at the landing between the first floor and the second, he takes a moment to breathe. He continues onwards towards the first floor boy's bathroom with his mind racing and disoriented.
Shuuichi didn't offer to help me, he thinks, running a hand through his bangs and pulling it back bloodied. Good. He stares at his hand, watching the blood seep into the creases of his palm. The more they all hate me, the easier it will be for them to convince themselves that I'm the mastermind. Briefly, he considers skipping his bathroom visit and showing up to the trial covered in blood. Oh, the look on their faces—
No, he reminds himself, you're lightheaded and not thinking straight. Displaying yourself like that would show weakness.
He swings open the door to the bathroom. He needs to hurry; the trial is starting soon, surely everyone else is already waiting—
His eyes meet Kaito's and they're both frozen in place. The silence is deafening while he takes in the sight before him; Kaito, eyes wide in fear, leaning over a sink with his fists on either side of it. White knuckled and breathing hard, his chest heaves. Kokichi watches as blood drips from his mouth and down the drain.
Quickly regaining composure, Kokichi begins to speak; "Wow, Momota-chan, you really—"
"What happened to you?" Kaito interrupts. Apparently finished with vomiting blood, he remains gripping at the sink—for support, Kokichi thinks—while he stares at Kokichi's forehead, the look in his eyes serious. Kokichi shifts his weight to the other foot, trying to determine the best course of action as fast as possible. A lie forms in his mind; something about being attacked—
"I tripped," he blurts out. He manages to keep his expression blank but internally curses himself—this injury must be worse than he thought if it's affecting him like this.
"You tripped," Kaito repeats. He looks conflicted. Grabbing a paper towel, he wipes the remaining blood from his lips before tossing it into the trash can. As he begins to walk forward, Kokichi moves to one side expectantly, waiting for him to pass on his way out.
Instead, he grabs a few more paper towels and steps closer to Kokichi.
"Hold still," he tells him, reaching out with his free hand to steady him. Before he can make contact, Kokichi flinches and then begins to giggle lightly.
Closer now, Kokichi can see the way Kaito's eyebrows draw together; the way his nose scrunches up with concern. "You really are out of it," Kaito tells him.
He approaches slowly this time, threading his fingers with Kokichi's hair and cupping his ear and cheek with his palm. Kokichi continues to sway on his feet, not willing to lean into the touch even if it would steady him. Sighing, Kaito brings the paper towels bunched up in his other hand up to Kokichi's forehead. He applies a mild pressure in an attempt to stop the bleeding.
They stand like that in silence for a minute. Kokichi takes note of Kaito's sunken eyes and pallid complexion, certain that he had looked much more alive just a few days before.
He's pulled out of his thoughts when Kaito speaks again. "You should have told someone. You got lucky that I was already in here."
Kokichi stares at him blankly, then gives a small smile. "But Momota-chan, I tripped in front of everybody."
Kaito's fingers twitch in their place behind his ear, and he giggles again from the feeling.
"There's no way I'm falling for that. No one would've let you walk around like this by yourself."
No one but your sidekicks, Kokichi thinks. Then he corrects the thought—it's likely most of the others would have left him as well, isn't it? There's no way of knowing who would have tried to help him or not, but he doubts Shuuichi and Maki are the only ones who would have made that choice. The only one who would help him for sure—
"Quit squirming around, Ouma."
Kaito tries to hold him still and he flinches again. He giggles harder than before. "I feel so special, Momota-chan! When Akamatsu-chan died, you decked poor Saihara-chan in the face! And here I am getting the royal treatment—do you like me or something?"
Kaito's grip on his hair tightens and Kokichi grins wide. Hate me. Hate me. Hate me.
But then Kaito just gives a frustrated sigh and pulls his hands away. He checks if the bleeding's stopped, then throws away the paper towels, apparently satisfied with the result of his efforts. Crossing his arms, he looks off to the side, his gaze distant. "That was… different." His brows furrow, and he seems conflicted—like he knows it's different but can't put it into words. He doesn't have to, because Kokichi's already got it figured out: a punch to knock sense into someone, a gentle touch to nurse someone else back to health, both intended as heroics. It's how Kaito operates, as if his personality was modeled after every shonen protagonist in the history of anime.
Maybe it was. Kokichi's still not sure about that part.
"It was different," he agrees. They stare at each other in silence for a moment until Kaito swallows dryly and glances at the door.
"We need to get to the trial room."
Kokichi tilts his head to the side inquisitively. "Are we not going to talk about you vomiting blood into the sink?"
Kaito tenses up visibly. "There's nothing to talk about. I have a cold."
Eyes widening, Kokichi bursts into laughter—in his current light-headed state, it's enough to make him dizzy. "A cold! Aha, haha! Do you think I'm that dumb? Or have you really deluded yourself that much?" He grips onto his sides to try and calm himself, nearly falling over. Kaito tries to steady him again with a hand on his shoulder, but retracts it when Kokichi flinches once more.
He turns away, facing towards the door. "It is a cold. I don't care if you don't believe me."
Kokichi stares at the expanse of Kaito's back. His face falls into neutrality. "And what if I tell your precious sidekicks about this?"
Hesitating, Kaito looks at the ground and clenches a fist. "They'd never believe you," he says with confidence. "But for some reason I feel like you won't try to tell them anyways."
"Mm," Kokichi hums quietly. "Nice job keeping them fooled, by the way. Do you enjoy lying to them?"
Apparently, Kaito's had enough. He flexes his fingers as though holding back the urge to punch something. He probably is; Kokichi's almost sure of it. Good.
"...I'm heading to the trial room now. You'd better hurry up too; don't wanna find out what Monokuma will do if you take too long."
He leaves, out of Kokichi's sight in two quick strides. Alone once more.
He tries not to think about how Kaito's parting words indicate that he doesn't want something bad to happen to him. He tries not to think about how Kaito didn't even ask him to keep his secret, certain he would regardless.
He reaches up with one hand to brush his fingers against the side of his head Kaito had been cupping. He tries not to think about the fact that he can't remember the last time someone touched him without the intention to hurt him.
Kaito doesn't hate him yet. What's he doing wrong?
Doesn't matter, he decides.
He'll hate me soon.