Chapter Text
Ah-hoo-gah!
Kokichi fell off his bed when he jolted awake. His heart slammed against his chest as he attempted to regain his bearings. A soreness crept up his right leg when he rolled back on his back. The sun crept in between the blinds into his eyes, which he squeezed shut again in response. It didn’t help.
Ah-hoo-gah!
“Ugh.”
He smacked his hand blindly on his phone until the alarm stopped. Okay, maybe a navy ship blaring its horn wasn’t the best idea, but he’s up so whatever, he supposed. His bad habits of sleeping until lunch time were ruined by the worst thing ever.
First day of senior year.
Only one thing worse than starting a new year of school.
Kokichi pointed at the door, and as if on cue, it slammed open.
“Rise and shine, Kokichi! It’s gonna be a great day and here’s why—“
Moms that were excited about school. The worst.
Kirumi placed a plate of pancakes on his lap and passed the syrup. She’s only in her early forties, but gray strands already peeked through the pale blonde hairs of her head. He pondered for a millisecond if that’s his doing.
“Because I’m going to hell and getting out of your hair?” Kokichi threw out there as he drowned his pancakes. This continued until syrup overflowed from his plate onto his many layers of blankets.
Kirumi opened her mouth then shut it before placing the back of her hand on his forehead. Ah, this again… what Kokichi liked to call the “mom x-ray.” Her eyes narrowed as she scanned him over until she paused on his right leg then rolled her eyes back up until she locked eyes with him.
“That’s not funny. Have you been writing songs like your therapist asked?” Kirumi grabbed Kokichi’s chin when he tried to turn away. “I’m serious. She said it’d help build your confidence, help those thoughts go away—“
“It was a joke! Only weirdos don’t think school is hell.” Kokichi pushed her hand away. He stuffed his mouth with an entire pancake. “Dat’s wha every kid wan’s ta hear firs thing in da mornin’. I wuv tokin’ ‘bout mah therapissss.”
“Please chew. You are going to choke.”
Kokichi chewed and swallowed with a sound so loud, the neighbor’s had to have heard. He stuck out his tongue to prove to her he’s fine. The eye roll in return awarded him an ego boost.
“Seriously, Kokichi,” said Kirumi as she pinched her nose. “You must take into consideration that we are trying to help you—“
“I don’t need help. I never needed help.” Kokichi stabbed another pancake. “Can’t a boy fall out a tree and that be that? I broke my leg, not my spirit.”
Kirumi traced shapes over his cast from the base of his foot up to his knee. “I know it’s just…” her face lit up, and Kokichi hated that face. Only bad things came from it. “Hey! Maybe you should have the kids at school sign your cast. That might help.”
“Ew,” said Kokichi, sticking out his tongue. “I don’t want those losers to come near me.” Kirumi stared at his pajama shorts, and her spotlight gaze burned holes through his facade. “Wh-What—“
“Maybe we should bring up to your therapist about this lying habit you have as well as your social anxiety.”
“I don’t have…” Kokichi stuffed his mouth with another pancake. “Can’t hear ya. Chewin’ ta loud.”
Kirumi ruffled his hair. “I mean it, Kokichi. You need to come home with one signature.”
“Can’t make meh.”
“How about this? One signature and show me one song, I’ll let you skip a therapy session.”
Kokichi swallowed, wiped his mouth, and held out a hand. “Deal.”
“Good.” Kirumi squeezed. “I know your handwriting, so you can’t fake it on your cast. The song needs to be typed so I know you at least spent more than three seconds scribbling something down.”
“I wasn’t gonna do that!” Kokichi exclaimed a bit too fast to be believable. He deflated and handed her his empty plate. A mumble barely reached his own ears, “Yeah, fine… whatever.”
“Twenty minutes,” she warned as she exited. Moving back to the doorway as if she remembered something, she frowned. “Do you need help out of bed or getting dressed?”
“No, I’m a perfectly capable human being. I can handle myself.”
When she left, he allowed himself to fall to the floor, taking his pillow with him. Even at this angle, the sunlight blinded him. Kokichi released the loudest groan into the pillow before throwing it at his window.
He hated school. He hated going to therapy when he didn’t need it. He hated that Kirumi made him go. He hated the stupid all white cast.
Kokichi’s going to stick out like a sore thumb in the sea of children, and that’s the last thing he wanted. If he graduated without anyone saying hello to him, it’s a win in his book. They’re all shallow, pretending to be friendly. None of them actually cared, especially all those posers that’ll ask him what happened to his leg. All the fakers that’ll offer to help him to class. No one’s real.
“Friends,” pft. Yeah right. Where will they be when the cast comes off?
He latched onto his blankets in an attempt to pull himself off the floor but only ended up in a pile of blankets and sweat. The temptation struck to call Kirumi back into the room, but his pride dissolved before his tongue decided to work. After some awkward turning, he managed to sit on his knees at a weird angle and forced himself into a standing position. Kokichi fumbled across the room until he reached his crutch.
Changing into pants was the worst. He mentally crossed Kirumi off the top of the list and replaced her with this stupid piece of cloth. Who needs pants anyways?
Kokichi kicked off his pants and switched to shorts. Great. Now he’s breaking dress code and everyone will see his cast. Perfect start. At least they’ll let him slide for the shorts, right?
The only school appropriate shirt he owned that’s clean was a stupid striped shirt Kirumi bought him for his interview with his internship. While he hated stripes, at least the colors were dull, he’d blend into the background.
He just wanted to make it through without being noticed or talked to, was that so wrong?
Part of him wanted to leave the backpack behind since no one really needed anything on the first day, but Kirumi would send him back to his room. He tossed it over his shoulder and leaned on his crutch, eager to leave. Last second, he reached under his pillow for the leather bound notebook below and stuffed it into his backpack.
In case of emergency and I need to write.
Not that he’d ever tell Kirumi that the therapist was right.
Blurring colors created a canvas of mystery. Passing trees were obvious, but sometimes he’d caught a glimpse of yellow or orange, curiosity taking hold. A bird? A flower? The sunlight?
Why couldn’t it be a cloudy day? He’s already burning.
Kirumi slowed the car down as they approached the school.
“Pencils?”
“Yes.”
“Binders?”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Erasers? Rulers? Calculator?”
“I don’t have math this semester.”
“Confidence?”
Kokichi rolled his eyes and leaned his chin on his palm. He blew a piece of hair from his face. “What do you mean? I’m always confident!”
Kirumi frowned. “Stop doing that.”
“Doing what? I’m not doing anything.”
“Lying. I remember the first day of school last year. You called me crying because—“
“I went to school last year?” Kokichi entertained. When the sun hit the window just right, he caught his reflection. No smile, bags under eyes. A tired glaze disappeared at the realization reflections don’t lie. He forced a smile more for Kirumi’s sake than his. “I’ve never been to school in my life. Hey! Don’t forget our deal. I want dinner with it, too.”
“Yeah… yeah, okay.”
In the schoolzone, Kirumi slowed to a reasonable speed. Like the trees, many students were a blur of color, botched summer hair dye jobs evident that would soon be reprimanded by the principal. Good thing all the purple was almost grown out from his hair.
When one girl came into focus, Kokichi knocked his knuckle against the window in a tap, tap, tap rhythm. Miu Iruma glanced his way, so he waved with a small grin on his face. Her nose scrunched up as she turned away and mixed into the crowd of walkers.
So that’s how today’s gonna be. He figured she’d look right through him like everyone else. He’d almost rather that, but something strange happened. His heart stopped beating when she ignored him, and it was a beautiful yet tragic feeling.
Kokichi squashed that down like all his other worries and fears. Emotional switch: off. Simple as that, right?
Kokichi found himself tapping on the glass still, so he quit.
“Well this is your stop!” Kirumi parked the car and ran around to his side of the car to open the door. “You’re going to kill today, I know it. I’m proud of you already. I’ll have your favorite meal ready once you’re home and everything. It’s a promise.”
“Wow, are you my maid now?” Kokichi handed her his crutch. She all but lifted him out of the car. “Thanks, Kirumi.”
Her smile faltered before she forced it back up. “O-Oh… Yeah. Well—“
“Korekiyo!”
Both turned toward the shout to see Shuichi Saihara catching Korekiyo Shinguji by the wrist. The taller boy shoved Shuichi back and continued to stomp away. It’s not uncommon to see the cousins argue like this; however, both had red eyes for obviously different reasons.
“You can’t leave! It’s our first day of senior year. It’s a day of new beginnings and—“ Shuichi’s voice shook as he spoke. Kokichi would be a liar if he said he didn’t feel a crack in his heart watching someone like Shuichi cry and not having the courage to fix it.
“I do not want to start over with the likes of you. If mother and father did not force me here, I would not attend such an establishment. I don’t wish to partake in the brainwashing of children. More importantly, I don’t want to be near you any longer than I must.”
Shuichi glanced around, realizing people were staring. In a quieter tone, he told his cousin, “please, just… I know you don’t mean that, okay? Come back inside.”
“Only if you go to your homeroom and leave me be.” Korekiyo’s eyes were intense despite all the red.
“Okay, okay… I’m trying to help you.” Shuichi clasped his hands in front of him and rocked on his heels. When people weren’t looking, he held out his hand near Korekiyo’s pocket. He spoke low, but Kokichi’s the master of reading lips. “I’ll dispose of it. I don’t want you kicked out on the first day. Please?”
Korekiyo handed him a baggie with what Kokichi assumed was weed. Shuichi’s shoulders relaxed and Korekiyo shoved him with his shoulder as he passed by. The shorter boy searched around to see if anyone still watched and locked eyes with Kokichi. When Shuichi smiled a nervous grin, the sun felt ten times brighter and warmer.
As if it was their little secret, Shuichi sealed it with a finger to his lips. His eyes pleaded for him to keep it. Kokichi crossed his heart, and Shuichi sighed with a soft smile. Glancing at the ground and away from that boy, he swore the heat on his cheeks was from the sun.
“Who’s that?” Kirumi beconned like all nosy mothers. “He’s cute.”
“That’s a girl,” was the lame lie Kokichi spat to get her off his case.
“O-Oh.” Kirumi handed him his crutch. Kokichi leaned on it. “So not your type then. Got it.”
“You know me so well,” he said half-heartedly.
Kirumi scanned his face for a truth he refused to give before she settled on straightening up his hair. “Remember what you’re doing for me today?”
“Yeah, yeah…” Kokichi ducked when she tried to fix his collar. A few students snickered at them. He nodded toward the car. “Will you go now? I don’t need help getting in.”
“Okay, well the Irumas told me that Miu is supposed to help you get around today, so—“
Ah, of course. Their families were friends after all. He bit his tongue and didn’t mention how she blatantly ignored him moments ago.
“—ove you, see you after school. Can’t wait for you to tell me about your day, sweetie!”
Kirumi kissed his forehead then hopped in the car. She waved and drove off.
That’s when Kokichi made his big mistake. One simple choice built a roller coaster that rivaled any other he’s ever heard of.
He decided to enter the school and ruin multiple lives.