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𝘚𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯?
𝘈 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦?
𝘉𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦, 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦, 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦, 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦, 𝘢𝘢𝘢𝘩-𝘰𝘰𝘰𝘩
𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘤
𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘤
𝘎𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘯
You have been running around investigating for a good while now, body and mind alike full of ache and exhaustion -tiredness rapidly spreading throughout all of your senses. Sighing, you decided to take a well deserved break, letting your spent body slide down the cold wall until your bottom hit the floor with a drawn out sigh.
How did this happen again, you chanted inside your head; but all to no avail seeing how no voice was ever there to answer your silly concerns whenever your bad habit of overthinking took over your entire shuddering form. You could scream out into the abyss and wave your fists around all you wanted, nothing was ever going to change and, at the end of the day, it was always you with yourself.
You were the kind of person that would rather busy -no, overwork- themselves all for the sake of not having one, single coherent thought out of fear of descending into madness and spiraling further into inevitable despair. Specifically when put into a situation like…this one; mere highschool students forced to kill eachother for the crooked entertainment of others.
Whatever, you told yourself as you got up with yet another heaving sigh. At least your intuition and logical skills weren’t half as bad and you were quite useful in the class trials with the evidence and deductions you never failed to bring forward.
The class trial was to begin in due time, and so you were on your way to take another look into Angie’s lab just to double check some details after having interrogated nearly everyone and doing circles inside the seance room in a glorious attempt at trying to pinpoint exactly who the fuck offed Tenko right after disposing of the Ultimate Artist -because you were more than certain it was the same person.
Emphasis on “nearly everyone” since you haven’t had a proper chance at interrogating the annoying little brat that Kokichi was. Speaking of that wretched bastard, where the hell was he off t-
“𝙄𝙩’𝙨 𝙖 𝙡𝙞𝙚!”
Speak of the devil and he shall come; your pulse shot up in an instant once -as if on cue- you heard Kokichi's very own high pitched voice coming from right around the other side of the wall, feet quickly carrying you towards the source of the bothersome commotion as Maki and Shuichi’s confused noises suddenly bounced off the worn out walls of the deserted hallways.
The sight that was eagerly waiting in the dimly lit hallway once you arrived at your destination and carefully tucked yourself behind the corner was, for a lack of a better word, flabbergasting: there stood Kokichi Oma himself in all of his glory -stood being an understatement giving that the frail boy was barely managing to balance his weight as he wobbled around like a worm pulled out of its earthly confines with his tiny, scraped hand holding on to the dirty wall as if his sad existence depended on it. His head was quite literally split open, numerous magenta tinted rivers -that you were certain weren’t faked at all- slowly but eagerly running down his face right from the recently opened wound situated at the base of that disheveled mess of a tuft that he called hair as if he straight up popped out of a horror movie.
The Ultimate Detective and his deadly partner were right in front of the rather scrawny boy who was clearly -no, blatantly- injured, youthful face scrunched up in what could only be deemed as pure pain and suffering; yet his devious smile still didn’t give up once on its taunting existence as it continued on dancing all over his bloodied features.
“Wh-What are you doing?” Shuichi finally managed to get out, Maki still menacingly glaring from behind his thin frame towards Kokichi as if the violet shortie offended her entire family tree by merely existing in the same timeline as her.
Kokichi’s eyes were so hollow and unfocused as he opened his mouth to reply it was almost scary; but when no actual word came out of his scratchy throat as he kept on staring into nothingness -blindly gawking through the pair of unsettled people in front of him- you knew this was something far more colossal than just a mere childish prank.
And, for whatever reason, your blood boiled hotter than the flames of the deepest pits of hell at the uncaring nature his fellow classmates were currently displaying upon seeing him in actual, unfaked agony.
“Oh, sorry.” Kokichi finally manages to speak, pushing a forced chuckle before continuing. “I was just a little light-headed from the blood loss. Yeah, this is real blood.”
The same strained grin is prevalent onto his pale complexity as he confirms your anxieties, Shuichi finally sketching an expression of shock and surprise at the smaller boy’s confession. And yet, to you, he still doesn’t seem genuinely concerned.
The detective seems knee deep into thought for just a split second before speaking up.
“…Okay. So, what were you doing?”
In that second you feel like punching the goddamn wall at his half-assed response.
“Well, I got curious and wanted to check out something so I went searching into the empty room next door. Th-Then, suddenly…” Kokichi seems out of air for a second right there and you think he might pass out for real this time. “I-I…stepped through the floorboard.”
“You stepped through a floorb-“
“Alright, that’s all I needed to hear.”
Everyone’s heads turn towards you the instant you make your presence known, hastily emerging from your hiding spot as Maki’s accusing crimson glare burns holes through your form. However, you were anything but intimidated by the assassin’s dreadful aura that was slowly but surely propagating throughout the hall at your sudden debut as you uncaringly make your way towards one hell of a bloody Kokichi who weakly “neeheehee”s whilst you wrap an arm around his lightly shaking form.
“I’ll take care of him since he’s, you know, clearly wounded.” You punctuate the “clearly” part a little bit too much and Maki’s scowl only seems to deepen further.
Kokichi is too exhausted from the excessive blood loss to shoot one of his usual snarky remarks or tease you for coming to his aid; instead settling for airily chuckling whilst slightly leaning into your protective form. You were so, so warm, Kokichi noted. And he’d -as always- be lying if he were to say that he didn’t absolutely love said aspect.
𝘐𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭
𝘐 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸
𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘺
𝘙𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦!
𝘙𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦! (𝘚𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯!)
Without another word you turn on your heel, leaving the still perplexed pair behind as you almost drag the tiny male towards the stairs due to the sheer weakness coursing through his compressed body. And no one gave a single shit about him since they’d all rather brush it off as one of his usual deceit embedded schemes rather than make a bit of an effort and see –no, understand- him for who he truly is.
As the two of you reach the stairs, you quickly come to the harsh conclusion that Kokichi is in no possible shape or form to actually descend down the stairs along your supportive side. In the state he was currently in, it was more than certain that he would end up potentially tripping over his own feet and falling a second time.
Which is exactly why, in the next second, Oma’s world warps a little bit too quickly for his dizzy brain to register and it takes the poor boy some good seconds to realize that you had effortlessly scooped him up in your shielding arms just like a guardian angel would with a helpless human who was pathetically led astray; who was in dire need of protection and guidance, the deity more than willing to offer just that out of its own sheer, honest kindness.
It doesn’t help his case either when he suddenly feels a tissue tenderly being pressed against his still bleeding head; not too hard but not too soft either. The perfect amount of pressure as to not inconvenience him further. You had made one of the brightest decisions so far by grabbing a few from the dining hall and stuffing them down your pockets earlier this morning.
“O-Oi!” Oma hoarsely manages to stutter out, cheeks rivaling the pigment of a tomato while you carefully step down the stairs as to not shake him up more than he already is. “I-Is this your way of confessing, o-or wh-“
“Shut it, grape boy. You should be grateful I saved your ass.” Your nonchalant voice immediately cuts him off with feigned annoyance because, in reality, you were desperately trying not to lose your own shit from the blatant intimacy and close proximity that the current position was offering you both. You were literally carrying him bridal style as if he weighted nothing, for fuck’s sake! Anyone passing by would’ve most likely gotten the wrong idea, and that fact alone was enough to make your heart run laps inside your ribcage. Totally not because you secretely harbored major feelings for the checkered deviant.
At least that’s what you liked telling yourself on a daily basis to make it just a tiny bit more bearable.
Yet once you gaze down at his heaving eyelids and rosy cheeks and ears, you swear that your ridiculously heaving heart might just go completely still any moment from now. His drowsy head keeps lightly bobbing with each step you take and you have to stop yourself from straight up digging into him. Without a single doubt, he was irresistibly adorable when he wasn’t acting like the literal spawn of Satan.
He was so light, so utterly frail in your undeserving arms that you were afraid he’d shatter into a million pieces like paper thin glass if you happened to accidentally apply more than enough force against his damaged body.
Taking a deep breath whilst being thankful to anyone up there in the sky that Oma was simply too spent to even register you gawking at his vulnerable, tiny form that fit almost too perfectly in your arms, you finally mustered up the courage to break the deafening silence.
“W-We’re going to my room so I can properly patch you up.” Mentally slapping yourself for stuttering at the beginning of the sentence, you immediately avert your gaze the second you finish speaking.
“Oooh, saucy.” Oma coos, pressing his cheek against your chest -you letting out a slightly concerning, rather inhumane sound which instantly elicits another hushed giggle from the devious boy in your arms- and wrapping his thin arms around your pulsating neck. “Taking advantage of t-the wounded, I see. What a-are we even gonna do in there, huh?” He huskily calls out your name before continuing. “Th-The trial must start any minute n-now, y’know?”
The suggestive laugh that he lets out the second he finishes the already provocative enough amalgam of words reverberates against the material of your shirt and has you nearly stumbling over your own feet, risking to give him a second concussion.
“T-The hell do you mean, Kokichi? Do you want me to drop your bratty ass right here and now and let you crawl towards the trial room with your brains spilling outta your head?” The vermilion shade adorning your overly frustrated expression as you glance down at his own taunting one sends a rush of adrenaline through the still unsteady boy who lets out a devilish cackle, arms tightening their clingy grip around your neck as a newly found flame ignites inside his exhausted body.
You were annoyed out of your mind at his crude remarks, specifically because you two had a rather…strange thing going on, to say the least. Neither of you had the guts nor balls to admit your mutually shared feelings, opting instead for constantly teasing and bullying eachother with every occasion you spotted -making everyone within a ten mile radius have an aneurysm. Not to mention that said insults refused to falter in their twisted game even during class trials.
Nonetheless, you continued to completely block out any more comments Kokichi made on the way to the dorms, wondering how and when the fuck had he even mustered up yet another tinge of strength as to torment his very own savior.
You had placed him onto your bed the second you arrived to your destination (and of course that the little gremlin had to comment on how “inappropriate” it was), quickly disappearing into the bathroom to fetch the first aid kit and begin tending to his injuries.
One cold, shaky hand held his small chin in place -Kokichi shuddering a little at the contact- while the other carefully wiped all the blood off his porcelain face.
Only to realize that no amount of alcohol or wet tissues were remotely enough to get all of the blood clots, dirt pieces, dust and small wooden chips out of his sea anemone of a hair.
Which is exactly why you found yourself in the current position, gingerly holding a hand over Oma’s forehead to make sure no water touched his pristine orbs, small head propped onto the edge of your sink while you carefully washed and scrubbed away all the remnants of his previous fiasco. The pose -albeit rather uncomfortable for the boy- was nothing short of intimate in your opinion; such a gentle and careful action, the proximity basically killing you softly with each passing second.
“Ow! That’s way too hot, s-stupidhead!” His crankiness just had to ruin the moment, the hand that wasn’t busy carding through his dark locks in order to spread the shampoo immediately adjusting the water temperature until it was to your feisty patient’s liking.
“Maybe stop complaining for once in your life. Especially when someone’s genuinely caring and trying to help you, brat.” Is all that you say which is more than enough to shut even Kokichi Oma himself up -said man pausing his ranting to think over your stinging phrase. Truth be told, you were always the only one who genuinely understood him and who never failed to see through his deceitful ways. Which is exactly why he even took a liking to you in the first place, obviously.
Kokichi is eerily silent as you just as gently cradle his head while you towel dry his mess of a hair, your movements excruciatingly slow as to not cause him any sort of pain or sting. You immediately guide the smaller boy out of the bathroom, letting him lean onto you for support until you reached the bed seeing how his footing was still relatively uneven.
Oma complies uncharacteristically easy as you place him on the more than decently sized bed and he doesn’t dare say another word for the rest of your treatment; not even when your still trembling hands slowly part his messy strands in order to locate the aching wound; just as softly placing an antibiotic embedded bandage over it right after. Your face was so close to his own as you did all of this, hot breath constantly fanning against him; and Kokichi had to fight back a stupid, genuine smile at the unbearably cute way in which you were sticking the tip of your tongue out in concentration. Concentration for his well being and comfort.
You were so painfully focused because you wanted to take care of him. Him, of all people.
“Why do you care so much about me?” Kokichi’s tone is just as blunt and serious as the question itself, slicing through thin air akin to a truth blade tearing down lies and made up stories in a deadly showdown of arguments.
You carefully analyze his face for any hint of deception but are unable to find any, Oma looking you dead in the eye with an out of the ordinary stoic expression as he gulps down the painkiller you fetched him mere seconds ago.
“…Wouldn’t you like to know.” Your response is airy and drawn out as you plop down next to him on the edge of the bed.
“As a matter of fact, yeah. I would. Which is why I even asked you in the first place, dumbass.”
You’re ready to tear through him once more as you whip your head to the side only to be greeted with an honest, amused grin stretched all over his stupidly cute face. For once his expression was neither forced nor malicious in nature; just pure, unmasked emotion that only you and you alone could ever have the privilege of witnessing.
You were at a total loss of words as Kokichi cocked an inquisitive eyebrow towards your direction. Everytime you tried opening your mouth to form a coherent response, you just ended up looking like a fish struggling to stay alive on land underneath the cruel sun's gaze.
You think your heart stops for a second time today once -with newfound boldness- the thin male leans so, so close to you that you can feel his warm breath tickling your equally as hot face, plum colored hues boring into your own wide orbs as he prepares to land the long awaited killing blow on your unsuspecting self.
“When I ask a question I expect an answer, y’know? It’s rude to ignore people.”
Is all that you hear before you feel surprisingly soft lips pressing onto yours; almost too lightly to be real. Your eyes snap open in shock as your hands fly up to his small shoulders for leverage, your beloved classmate leaning more and more over you to the point where he was almost pinning you down onto the plush mattress. He tasted sweet, unexpectedly sweet; like jellies and soda. But you had no qualms with it as your arms carefully wrapped around his twig of a neck in order to deepen the progressively heated kiss; afraid that you would accidentally open up a new wound.
Your gasp is muffled by his clumsy tongue slipping inside your mouth once bony hands teasingly slide down your back, stopping just shy of your bottom making you lightly nibble onto the boy’s lips -Kokichi slightly groaning at the unexpected action.
But it doesn’t take long for the both of you to break the full on make out session in order to catch air, thin string of saliva still connecting your lips together as you panted and gasped whilst looking at eachother with ecstatic expressions.
“B-Because I care about you, Kichi. That’s why. I couldn’t bear seeing the others not giving a fuck when you were bleeding all over the damn floor. Even if you’re a major bitch sometimes.” You avert your gaze as you breathlessly squeeze out the words.
The absolutely jovial chuckle that rips from Kokichi’s throat in the following second prompts a smile to make its way onto your own face as you playfully push your own shoulder onto his with a small “shut up”, the cackling male nearly falling over and onto his side with an adorable yelp of sheer surprise.
Despite his previous display of boldness, the boy was clearly bothered by the newfound nickname you gave him -silently begging you to call him exactly that again in the future.
“If that’s supposed to be a confession, then man, you truly do suck at it.” Kokichi suddenly throws himself over you, knocking you over and totally ignoring your protests as he contently lands on top of your comfortable chest that he’d love to be smothered in for the rest of his days.
“But that’s ok, since so do I. And that’s definitely not a lie!”
You roll your eyes at his usual antics but still lovingly grin towards him, wrapping your warm arms around his thin waist, pressing your bodies together in a tight embrace.
“Well, someone’s certainly feeling better.”
“Duh, since you kissed it better.”
“Shut it, you dwarf.”
It’s your turn to laugh now as you take in his expression of feigned hurt, planting a chaste kiss of apology onto his forehead when you hear him whine about how you’re “so mean”.
You’re ready to provoke him again when Oma softly calls out your name -such a mundane action and yet the butterflies inside your abdomen quite literally explode.
“Thank you.” There’s nothing but pure, unadulterated honesty in his tone as his doe eyes look up into yours with blatant adoration.
“You should totally join my evil organization as a nurse and patch us up! You got the looks for it, too!”
And, just like that, he has to ruin the mood again as you -carefully- shove him off of you to the side, hysterical cackles resonating throughout your room once again as Kokichi hits the mattress with a soft sound.
“Yeah, yeah. You can be my fuckin’ boyfriend or whatever. Damn, your way of confessing is just as weird as mine, I swear.” You mutter the last part mainly for yourself but the sharp, calculating Kokichi still hears it; slender arms immediately wrapping around your waist as he presses his lightly flushed cheeks against your back, getting ready to tease yo-
𝘿𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙙𝙤𝙣𝙜, 𝙗𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙗𝙤𝙣𝙜!
Unfortunately, a completely different thing ruined the mood this time. Though, deep down you didn’t even care as much anymore now that you were certain you had Kokichi by your side.
After all, you both had meticulously pieced this relationship together just like pressed flowers. Only to find out that by pressing a flower you inevitably end up killing it.
𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳
𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘦
𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨!
𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨!
𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨!
𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨!