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"Oh my god."
Saihara really didn't know what to expect when he opened his bedroom's walk-in closet. Maybe actual clothes, like a normal person?? That was his mistake. He shouldn't have even thought there would be some sense of normalcy in his previous self's bedroom, of all places. Of course there wouldn't be. He saw the audition tape. He saw his own face smiling and blushing while talking about how he wanted to kill and be executed.
But, really... He really wasn't expecting to see pictures from floor to ceiling, and he definitely wasn't expecting to recognize the person in all of them.
"There was seriously... something wrong with me," Saihara muttered to himself as he stared at the multitude of images staring back at him.
The subject in all of the photos doesn't seem to be aware of the pictures being taken. All of them appear to be taken from corners, or behind walls. A lot of them seemed to be pictures of the person's back, but there were a few showing the face of his unsuspecting stalking victim. Saihara didn't need to see their face to know who it was, though. He would know that messy, octopus-like mop of hair from anywhere.
Saihara Shuichi had stalked Ouma Kokichi.
Saihara felt his knees buckle under him and he suddenly found himself collapsed on the floor.
"Hey, Saihara-chan, where do you want me to put--"
He then remembered that Ouma was also in his house. He quickly stood up, futilely spreading his arms out to cover whatever Ouma could see in the closet. "Ouma-kun, don't look..!"
But it was already too late. Ouma had seen the contents of the closet, and he was looking right at Saihara with a blank expression. Saihara let his arms fall, defeated. He ducked his head to the side in shame and scrunched his eyes shut. He couldn't handle Ouma looking at him like that.
The two had gotten closer during the time they spent at Team Danganronpa's hospital facilities after they came back from the virtual simulation. It took a while for the leader to lower his walls near the detective, and there were still a lot of things they needed to talk about. Still, they connected, and they cried together over the things that happened in the killing game. Saihara felt that he understood the liar a little better. In fact, Ouma had accompanied him to his previous self's house to help Saihara face the skeletons in his closet. He didn't foresee it being something like this, though. Now, whatever progress they had made in their relationship was ruined with the sheer fact that the bluenette had stalked the shorter boy in the past. How could Ouma even stand to be in the same room as him..?
But then, he hears it. A quiet giggle. Saihara snapped his head back at Ouma, eyes widening at the sight of the leader bending over and holding his stomach as he quietly snickered. After a while, the sound got louder and soon, he was full-on laughing. Saihara was frozen, still baffled at the sight. "Wowww, Saihara-chan! Holy shit, you used to STALK me?!" Ouma didn't sound angry or weirded out, but rather, amused as he wiped a tear away.
Saihara found himself momentarily forgetting his shame and feeling embarrassment instead. His face burned as he continued to watch Ouma cracking up. "I, uh, um..." What can he even say in this situation?! "I'm... sorry?"
Wait, he didn't mean to sound so unsure. It's definitely the thing he should be saying here. He should be sorry for being the degenerate Chabashira-san accused all boys to be. "Ouma-kun, I'm... really, truly sorry."
Finally calming down, Ouma waved Saihara's apology away. "No worries, Shumai! This is some priceless blackmail material, so I really should thank you!"
"Ouma-"
"But that's a lie, I would never blackmail my beloved!" Ouma cheerfully announced.
"Ouma-kun, it's okay. You can be angry at me," Saihara smiled sadly. "Frankly, I don't understand why you're still talking to me or why you're trying to laugh it off."
"Silly Saihara-chan," Ouma shook his head, clicking his tongue. "Don't you know what this means?"
"Huh?"
"You loved me once upon a time! Doesn't that mean that there's a higher chance of you returning my feelings now?" Ouma stood on his tip toes, fists clenched in front of him, stars in his eyes.
Saihara ignored how his heartbeat quickened when Ouma talked about his "feelings." He knows the other is lying, but even if he wasn't, the leader definitely won't feel anything other than hatred and contempt towards Saihara after this.
"That's not really what you should be saying in this situation..." Saihara truly appreciates how Ouma is trying to lighten up the situation by joking around, but... he doesn't want the leader lying to himself anymore for other people's sake, especially not his. Not after what he did in the killing game.
"Then what do you want me to do, Saihara-chan?" His face was back to his blank expression.
"I... I don't know. Maybe, punch me? O-Or something? Beat me up? I don't know, tell me that you hate me! That you find me disgusting and gross! I'm..." Saihara let out a shuddering breath. "Just, not this."
The silence that hung in the air after that was suffocating. Saihara could no longer bear to look at Ouma, choosing to stare at the floor instead.
"Saihara-chan. Look at me."
Saihara promptly shut his eyes tighter.
"Shuichi," Ouma's voice sounded closer, softer now. "Look at me."
Saihara felt gentle hands cup his cheeks and a thumb softly caressing his tears away. When did he start crying? The detective slowly opened his eyes and was greeted with a blurry image of Ouma looking up at him.
"Hey, you," Ouma whispered.
"Hey," Saihara sniffed, his heart hurting at seeing Ouma look up at him so kindly. How did he ever think this boy in front of him was the mastermind behind every cruel thing in the simulation?
"I can see the wheels turning in your head, detective," Ouma crooned. "Mind telling me what you're thinking so hard about?"
"Just... wondering how I let you trick me for so long."
"I've tricked you plenty of times. You'll have to be more specific than that, beloved."
How did he ever let himself get tricked into thinking Ouma was the cruel person he tried to play as? Ouma, the one who always threatened him whenever they spent time together, but ultimately never did anything other than play games? Ouma, deliberately tying or losing his own challenges so they could continue their games? Ouma, who always smiled so brightly whenever Saihara came up to him with a new gift in hand?
Even now, Saihara still felt so stupid over his actions in the game.
"Well, whatever you're thinking about, stop it; you were crying before and now, look at you! You're being all mushy!" Ouma pouted.
Saihara simply blinked his tears away and chuckled. Ouma was so cute.
"Eww, Saihara-chan's looking at me with love in his eyes!" Ouma stuck his tongue out in mock disgust, but his eyes still remained as soft as ever. "How gross!"
Ah... truly, Saihara was so, so stupid.
"I like you, Ouma-kun," He smiled down at the purple haired boy. He brought his hands up to caress the other's cheeks, enjoying how the leader leaned into his touch. "I really like you."
And it's scary. How much he's fallen for Ouma Kokichi.
"I'm really sorry, Ouma-kun." For the actions of my past self. For saying the things I did. For not understanding you. For giving up on you.
"Saihara-chan, you're a big baby, you know that?" Ouma huffed. "I already told you I forgave you." For everything.
Ouma stepped back as Saihara wiped away his remaining tears. He misses the leader's touch, but the close proximity and the vulnerability must have made Ouma a bit uncomfortable, even if he doesn't say it.
"Honestly, I'm kinda glad," Ouma looked away and at the closet with its door still ajar, twirling a strand of his purple-tipped hair. "I didn't know how to bring it up, and I figured I'd always have to hide it."
Ouma looked back at him, an uncharacteristically shy smile playing on his lips. Saihara's breath hitched.
"Want to come over to my house, Shumai?"
¤
"I'm hoooome~!"
"S-sorry for the intrusion," Saihara ducked his head in a slight bow as he entered the dark house. He took off his shoes as Ouma turned the lights on.
"Excuse the mess and all, I guess, but you saw how my room was like in the game, right? This is nothing compared to that," he snickered.
Saihara rolled his eyes at the obvious lie. His house was much, much cleaner than he had expected it to be. "Ouma-kun, why are we at your house..?"
Ouma turned around, donning a mischievous smirk. He brought a finger to his lips and said, "You'll see."
The two of them found themselves in front of an inconspicuous door on the second floor. Saihara shot Ouma a weird look, to which Ouma returned a grin. He grabbed ahold of the doorknob before swinging it open with a flourish. "Tell me this isn't the weirdest case of mutual pining you've ever seen," Ouma turned on the light.
To say Saihara was speechless was an understatement. A small laugh bubbled out of Saihara. Unbelievable.
"What were the odds of us being each other's stalker?" Saihara whispered, absentmindedly walking into the room.
"Pretty fucking low, I say," Ouma grimaced as he followed the detective into the room. "Why couldn't we have been normal kids and just confessed to each other?!"
Saihara's fingers ghosted over the photographs taped on the wall. Similar to the ones in his own closet, these pictures looked like they were taken without any knowledge of the camera. Pictures of him walking, eating, shopping for Danganronpa merch, and even him sleeping. It was scarily identical to the ones he had of Ouma. The only difference was...
"Yup, I went beyond the whole 'photographs-only' thing," Ouma cringed as Saihara studied the little plastic bags and jars. "Ew, don't look at those for too long."
"Is this... an eyelash?" Saihara turned around to stare at Ouma incredulously. It was his turn to be amused.
"Yup!" Ouma popped the "p," taking the little baggy with his thumb and index finger, throwing it into a nearby trash bin while muttering a small gross. "I have to commend my previous self for that, though. You do have pretty eyelashes. Did you ever notice how long they are? Color me surprised when I found out those are natural."
"I... don't even know what to say."
"Well!" Ouma was cheerful again, but it was obvious he was having a hard time putting up his usual mask. "Don't say anything then."
The two stood in silence, both of them looking at the images, though Ouma's eyes seemed to be staring beyond the wall. It was still strange, seeing a different Saihara in all of these pictures yet donning the same hat. Did this other Saihara hide behind his hat too? Did he also have a reason for wearing them, like the detective did?
His thoughts wandered off to the pictures on his closet wall, the pictures depicting a different version of Ouma Kokichi. The leader had seemed rather weak, vulnerable in his pictures. His eyes were empty and void in the few pictures that showed his face, similarly to the eyes of his previous self. However, he did recall seeing one where it looked like Ouma was staring right at the camera, recognition and a shine in his eyes. Saihara might have seen wrong, though.
"Do you think we were friends?"
"I hope not," Ouma grumbled. "I would simply die of embarrassment if Saihara-chan knew how gross I was!"
"But you showed me all of this, Ouma-kun." Saihara replied.
"Then I'm dead!" Ouma dramatically fell to the floor, clutching his chest. "I can no longer face you like this! Leave me be, Saihara-chan! And burn this house and its disgusting Saihara shrine along with my body."
Saihara chuckled, still finding himself intrigued at Ouma's antics even after months of dealing with it. "Get up, Ouma-kun."
"Rude, laughing over my plight." Ouma shot a glare at the taller boy before taking his outstretched hand and letting himself be lifted off the floor.
"Either way, compared to your little closet, mine is way worse," Ouma turned to the detective and laughed. "Told ya you didn't need to worry your pretty little head over your shrine of me! Which, by the way, you should totally keep to show your reverence for your supreme leader!"
Saihara rolled his eyes. He's still unsure about what to do with Ouma's photos, but it feels like a waste to throw them out... and a bit disrespectful to the old Ouma, even though the whole stalking bit was disrespectful enough in itself. Still, it's photographic evidence that this old Ouma Kokichi had lived.
At the same time, they're undeniable evidence that the memories they thought were real were fake all along. Saihara was never an apprentice detective to an uncle who loved him. That uncle never even existed. And for Ouma... DICE never existed.
"Hmph, but looking at all of this again..." Ouma met Saihara's eyes briefly before he looked away again. "Kinda makes me glad I signed up for Danganronpa, you know?
"I was a creepy stalker who stalked an unsuspecting Saihara-chan! Maybe Team Danganronpa changed me for the better?"
"You don't mean that..."
"You're right! I'm still the scum of the earth."
Saihara made a strained noise. "We're not those people, Ouma-kun," Saihara said, trying to make his voice as soothing as possible. He made his way to Ouma and hugged him. Surprisingly, the leader let himself be held without any protest. "And we're our own people too with our own, real feelings. Don't buy into the shit Shirogane said.
You weren't the person who signed up for it. You weren't the one who willingly signed up for trauma in exchange for this life. None of us deserved what we were put through. You shouldn't have to carry the burdens of your previous life, or feel thankful for Danganronpa. At all."
Shit, Saihara was really bad at comforting people. It's not his forte at all, and he wished he was like Akamatsu-san and Ouma-kun, or even Momota-kun, who seemed to know what to say in these types of situations. The taller boy squeezed the other a little tighter to hopefully convey his feelings.
Ouma snorted. "Look at you, Saihara-chan. Weren't you just telling me to hate you for what you did in the past, things you didn't even know you did and have no control over?" Ouma lightly patted the detective's cheek. "Take your own advice, dummy."
Saihara hung his head low and rested it on Ouma's shoulder. "Sorry," he mumbled. "For making you show me this. You must be uncomfortable."
"Saihara-chan, you didn't make me do anything," Ouma hummed. "I led you here myself, though I do wish you never had to see this, but oh well! Now we're even, right~?"
"Y-yeah. Thank you, Ouma-kun," the detective pulled away and smiled softly to the other. "For everything, really."
"Aww, Shumai, are you really gonna spill your heart out to me right in front of this... jar of questionable substances?" Ouma took said jar and spun it around to examine its contents. His expression soured after reading the label. "God, I was weird. How did you fall in love with me, Saihara-chan?! Saihara-chan has really weird tastes!"
"I could say the same about you, Ouma-kun," Saihara smiled sheepishly. "You've seen my audition tape, you know how I was like."
"I guess I'm just weak for pretty faces!"
Saihara sputtered. "Ouma-kun..!"
"What? It's true!" Ouma argued, looking directly at the blushing detective with a pout. "You're the prettiest boy in this entire class and if you can't see that, then you're blind, Saihara-chan!"
Saihara buried his face in his hands as his blush intensified.
"Nishishi, you really are so cute, Shumai!" Ouma giggled. "I wish I could take a picture of you right now and add that to my collection."
"That's a lie..." At least, he hoped it was.
"Yup, you got me!" Ouma grinned, fingers laced behind his head in his signature pose. "'s not like I have a camera on hand, anyways."
"But if you did, you would take a picture..?" Saihara finally lifted his head from his hands, face still burning but bearable.
"Only if you're okay with it!"
Strangely, Saihara was okay with it. In fact... "Then, would you be okay with me taking pictures of you, too?"
"Huhhh? Saihara-chan, are you reverting back to your stalker ways?" Ouma's eyes shone with fresh new tears. "WAHHHHH! My beloved Saihara-chan is gonna be replaced by his creepy old self!!"
"O-Ouma-kun, please..!" Saihara shut his eyes, feeling a headache coming on. He opened his eyes again to see Ouma expectantly waiting for him to continue, so he did. "I thought it would be nice if we could... make a photo album of sorts. Something like what our previous selves did, but without the whole, um, creepy stalking factor." Saihara nervously waved his hands around as he explained. "Of course, you don't have to if you don't want to! But, I feel like it might be nice to create new memories with everyone and have photos together, of us living our new lives that's not footage from the killing game..."
"That sounds like a great idea, Saihara-chan!"
"Do you really think so?" Saihara couldn't help but feel a bit apprehensive with how easily Ouma agreed. He didn't really get along well with the others, after all...
"Yup!" Ouma's smile turned mischievous. "Actually, let's start one right now. Say cheese, Shumai!!"
"Huh?! Wait-"
Click!
"I thought you didn't have a camera?!" Saihara exclaimed, rubbing his eyes after suddenly being blinded by the camera flash. Once he opened his eyes and the dark spots in his vision disappeared, he saw Ouma holding a polaroid camera with a gleeful smile on his face, and once again, Saihara felt like he was blinded.
"Nishishi, that was a lie!"