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It’s loud and too much and everything is happening all at once and it’s bad it’s bad it’s so bad, he doesn’t even know that he’s showing signs of distress until there’s a hand in his, gently pulling him away from muddled voices and the too-loud room, which suddenly eases.
Footsteps.
His own, the sound of his worn half-formal half-“I’ve had these for too long and they sort of work with everything” shoes.
And then…
His eyes trail forward, to the source of the second set of footsteps, and he knows those shoes. They’re white converse. Or at least, they used to be. They’re stained from dirt and mud and dust and little pen scribbles from the middle of boring classes on the canvas fabric, and the bottoms are stained pale purple with a failed attempt at painting them a more royal shade.
Kokichi.
He can’t find himself able to speak in that exact moment, but he glances up and there’s the reckless boy himself, pulling him along dutifully by his hand, black and purple painted nails standing out against pale skin. He must have painted them again recently, or maybe had someone paint them for him. The polish isn’t chipped, and shines with the overcoat. It looks like there’s a stain from the purple polish on the cuticle of one of his fingers. That looks like his ring finger, maybe?
“Ah-!” He gasps, almost tripping when Kokichi suddenly stops, muttering an apology as he bumps into him. Kokichi sends him a look of mirth and amusement, smiles at him, but doesn’t say anything else, and leads them into the dorm rooms.
“It’s okay, Shumai.” Kokichi says, voice full of what most people would consider an uncharacteristic kindness, but Shuichi knows that it’s just Kokichi’s way of being careful when he’s not doing well.
And, well, it’s certainly not unwelcome.
They enter a dorm room. Shuichi can’t tell if it’s his or Kokichi’s, but there’s a sudden gap in his memories, and he finds himself curled up in Kokichi’s arms on the floor, gasping for breath and sobbing uncontrollably.
Confusion and fear and hurt are wracking him, and he can’t quite tell what’s real, but he can feel Kokichi’s fingers in his hair and the faint vibrations of his humming, and the solid warmth of the smaller boy’s body half-wrapping around him. Shielding him, protecting him.
“You’re okay, Shumai. I’ve got you.” Kokichi mutters, and Shuichi curls closer. Kokichi shushes him, soft, soothing, and Shuichi sobs and then melts.
“‘Kichi,” He gasps out, and Kokichi’s hands leave his hair but he’s properly holding Shuichi now, hugging him, tight and close and nuzzling the top of his head.
“I’m here, Shu. It’s okay, you’re okay. Breathe, little detective.” Kokichi murmurs, speaking softly, and so kindly, that something in Shuichi breaks and he finally feels safe , things feel real and they're not distant anymore, ‘cause Kokichi’s there, an’ he’s gonna be okay because ‘kichi isn’t gonna leave, ‘nd-
A soft kiss presses to his forehead, and everything else melts away, his head clearing.
“There you are, Shumai!” Kokichi chirps, like he can sense the change and sudden clarity in the blue haired boy’s mind.
Shuichi laughs. Or he tries to, because it comes out half a sob, and he buries his head in Kokichi’s neck.
“C’mon, blueberry,” Kokichi’s voice is teasing, but his words are kind as he gently nudges Shuichi. “Get up, let’s get you changed and into bed, ‘kay?”
Shuichi nods dumbly, sniffling, and half stumbles to his feet. Things get blurry for a little bit, but he finds himself in soft sleep pants and a hoodie a size (or maybe two?) too big, and he’s curled up in bed, getting Kokichi’s massive collection of blankets and pillows sorted out in a way that makes him feel comfortable.
Kokichi joins him after getting two water bottles and a mixed nut bar with yogurt on the bottom, the kind that Shuichi will never turn down, and a box of cookies. The cakey ones, with the thick frosting on top and sprinkles. Kokichi loves them to bits, always has a stash around. If Shuichi cared to think enough, he would be able to tell you that they were lofthouse cookies, and even tell you how to make them.
When Shuichi is finally comfortable, and Kokichi has set their snacks and waters on his nightstand, he settles right by Shuichi, passing him the worn stuffed dark brown dog plush in a detective’s outfit that he’s had since he was a little kid.
Shuichi promptly takes the plushie and tucks into Kokichi’s side, curling against him. It works out perfectly, really - Shuichi loves having only his head sticking out from the blankets, and Kokichi overheats too easily like that, so he tends to have his chest and up uncovered. Shuichi having to shift to rest his head on Kokichi’s chest makes them both have the blankets exactly how they prefer without compromise.
To be honest, it takes more than just a little bit of badgering and convincing for Kokichi to get Shuichi to take one of the water bottles and drink from it, but it doesn’t take quite as much to get him to eat the snack bar.
Once he’s eaten and had water to drink, Kokichi kisses his head softly.
“Thank you, Shumai! You can sleep now, if you want to, ‘kay? I’ll stay here, I’m not goin’ anywhere.” Kokichi coos affectionately, nuzzling Shuichi’s hair and grinning when Shuichi can’t contain a little giggle, snuggling closer.
“Mmb… ‘kay. Thanks, Kichi.” He sighs out, and finds himself immediately starting to doze off. In fact, he all but completely misses Kokichi’s affectionate little murmur to him as he does.
“Anything for you, little detective.”