Work Text:
Groaning, Rantaro opened his eyes. Sat up. Winced. Frowning, he glanced down at himself. He was wearing a striped blue shirt and brown sarouel pants. He sat on two wooden planks, which served as a bed. Where am I?
He was in a cramped stone room. No windows, only a steel reinforced door. A monitor was affixed to the upper corner of the room. Rantaro felt cold radiating off the stone walls. Smelled dirt. Am I underground?
Grimacing, Rantaro held his head. I remember traveling back to Japan because Kokichi said he had a clue about the location of one of my sisters. So why does this look like I’m in a prison?
The TV flicked on. “Rise and shine, ursine!” Rantaro jumped. Boots soles appeared on-screen, as if someone was lounging back in a chair with their feet up. “It’s been, what? A year since graduating from Hope’s Peak? I missed you sooo much that I organized a little class reunion, just the two of us!” The person removed their feet, revealing their face.
Rantaro narrowed his eyes. “Kokichi.”
The leader sat in a swivel chair, a stone wall behind him. Elbow on the chair arm, Kokichi propped his head up with the palm of his hand. “Nee-heehee! I don’t suppose you’ve changed your mind and wanna join my organization?”
Rantaro flung aside the bed’s blanket and stood. “I’m sorry, but no. I have to find my sisters.”
Humming, Kokichi spun his peaked hat around with a fingertip. He was fully outfitted in leadership regalia, complete with a cape and buttons polished to a shine. “Hmm… y’know, you’re so focused on finding your sisters, but did you ever wonder what would happen when you met them? How mad they are at you for abandoning them?”
Rantaro clenched his fists. Glared.
“You suuuure you don’t wanna join? What if finding your sisters and joining my organization is one and the same?”
“Look, I like a good joke as much as the next guy, but kidding around about that… Wait.” Rantaro froze. “You don’t mean to say you’ll only share your clue if I join. Blackmail, that’s your angle?”
Kokichi’s grin stretched unnaturally. “Oh, it’s much worse than that. It’s…” A small arm pulled Kokichi’s uniform. He swatted it away. “Stop it. The past year, I’ve been searching—h-hey!”
A young girl climbed into Kokichi’s lap. She smiled at the camera. “Hi, Taro-nii!”
Gasping, Rantaro’s hands flew to his mouth. His eyes welled with tears. “Umi?”
“That’s right!” cried Kokichi. Turning aside, Kokichi made a sweeping gesture behind him. The rest of Rantaro’s sisters stood there, wearing DICE uniforms. They glared at the camera. “I located your sisters and recruited them into my organization!”
Rantaro stilled. “You… you found them all? And they joined your… Hold on a second.”
Kokichi examined his nails. “Y’know at school, everyone gushed over you. You were so good at everything and yet you whined about not finding your sisters. But didja even try? You’d travel the world to find them but really—and let’s be honest here cuz I hate liars—you were just going on vacations, weren’t you?”
“That’s enough,” Rantaro said in a low voice.
“Oh, did I hit a weak spot? Well, I’m so amazing I located aaaall of your sisters and didn’t break a sweat.” Arms behind his head, Kokichi lounged in the chair. “And they love me! I’m their big brother now. But for the brother who abandoned them in the big bad world…” Grinning, Kokichi sliced a finger across his neck.
Rantaro paled.
“So, generous leader that I am,” Kokichi continued, “I’m giving them a chance to exact revenge! You’re going to undergo four dangerous trials run by your sisters. If you survive, well, let’s just say there’s a biiig surprise at the end!”
Stepping forward, Rantaro pressed a hand to his chest. “My sisters! I know you’re angry and upset. But believe me when I say I never stopped searching for you!”
“Save your breath.” Kokichi picked up Umi and handed her to someone off-screen. Megane, the eldest Amami daughter.
Rantaro winced. He could still vividly remember their last conversation together.
On-screen, Megane’s eyes flashed behind her glasses. “I’ll never forgive you.”
Kokichi hit a button. Groaning, the steel door to Rantaro’s cell opened. “Now, let the killing game begin.” The monitor shut off.
Rantaro studied the doorway. Beyond was only darkness. Trials? What was he talking about? The adventurer clenched his fists. No matter how dangerous, I have to face my sisters. I have to right my wrongs!
Rantaro plunged into the dark hallway. Shoulders tense, he stepped through a doorway at its end. He entered a room so filled with stuffed animals he could barely see the floor. Painted trees and smiling suns decorated the walls.
“Uhh…” Danger? This is a playroom. Did Kokichi buy all this for them?
“Taro-nii!” Umi sat at a child-sized table to the side. The seven-year-old wore a unicorn horn headband and a tutu over her DICE uniform. “Can we play together?”
Chiru, the second youngest, stood on a small stage to the right, performing cheers with pom-poms. Purple and pink ribbons ran through her pigtails. “We can’t play now, Umi. Kokichi onii-chan said we gotta do a trial. Pika, give me a C-H-E-E-R!”
Pika sat against the opposite wall with her knees up, bashing buttons on a GBA. She wore a backwards baseball cap, a white open jacket over a black shirt, and pants. Wincing, she put a finger in her ear. “So noisy… Uproar is super effective on me.” The ten-year-old sighed. “Well, if it’ll get you to be quiet, I guess I can lend a helping hand for a few turns.”
A lump formed in Rantaro’s throat. “I’m so happy you’re all here…”
Pika passed Rantaro, heading to the stage. “Wouldn’t celebrate just yet. The others are really mad… Well, you’ll see I guess.”
Beaming, Chiru handed Rantaro pom-poms. “If you do a good job cheering, you’ll pass our trial and can leave the room!” She pointed to another steel reinforced door near the back corner. Chiru hit the play button on a stereo. “Ready? Then 5, 6, 7, 8! Give me an O-N-I-I-C-H-A-N!”
Waving pom-poms, Rantaro chanted and posed along with his sisters. While Chiru performed flawlessly, Pika cheered in a monotone voice, and Umi giggled whenever she bumped into her brother. Rantaro tried to copy their movements, but was always a half beat behind.
Frowning, Chiru crossed her arms. “Onii-chan, you’re not very good at this.”
“Oh yeah?” Rantaro set his hands on his hips. “But what if I showed you my super-secret special move?” Rantaro pointed his index finger off his forehead like a horn, placed his pom-pom behind his back, imitating a tail, and spun around.
Umi tackled Rantaro, squealing, “Unicooooorn!” Startled, Rantaro tumbled offstage. The plushies everywhere cushioned his fall. Umi and Chiru jumped on Rantaro, laughing and giggling.
“Oof…!” Groaning, Rantaro waved them off. “Haha, I think that’s enough excitement for now. But this was fun, yeah?”
Biting her lip, Pika hung back. “D-do you really think goofing off would make us happy? You left us in the wild for so long.”
Rantaro approached Pika. Placed his hand on his knees. “I know it isn’t enough. I remembered how much you love Pokémon, so I captured all the legendaries of every game, including store exclusives. All for when we’d meet again.” Smiling, Rantaro held up a fist. “I can’t even begin to apologize for taking so long to find you, but I’m here now. Let’s have a Pokémon battle later, okay?”
Slowly a grin bloomed across Pika’s face. She fist bumped him. Placing a hand to a coms. device in her ear, Pika said, “All clear.” The steel reinforced door opened.
Rantaro frowned. Who is she talking to? Kokichi?
Pika crossed her arms. “This was only the first Elite Four. Battles will only get harder from here on out. So… do your best, Onii-chan! I wanna cream you!”
Rantaro nodded. Hand raised in a wave, he ran through the door. Passed into an even larger space. Along the far wall was a stage with flashing strobe lights and a runway. Like a store, circular clothing racks with stylish clothes were spread across the room. Lilac neon tubes outlined the dark purple walls and stage, giving the room a futuristic mall atmosphere.
On the runway’s end stood Rantaro’s fourteen-year-old triplet sisters. The eldest, Tsunade, jumped off the stage. She had short spiky red hair and her DICE uniform had torn short sleeves and shorts. Tsunade put her hands on her hips. “Tch! Call me surprised ya haven’t bolted like a frightened jackrabbit.”
Moé, the middle sister, giggled. She had long, dark green hair and wore a dress uniform. The soft lilt of her voice carried in the spacious room. “B-but since he didn’t, we can hold a fashion show.”
Fasshon jabbed a finger at Rantaro. Blue and pink streaks ran through her twin hair drills. She wore a crop top with a tight black undershirt and skirt. “Like, OMG! I won’t be outshined by someone who just suddenly appeared on the runway, waltzing into our lives. You may look good, but, like, Japan’s top model is gonna be me!”
Hand behind his head, Rantaro laughed. “This is just like you guys… I remember you three were always begging me to play Pretty Pretty Princess with you as kids.”
Gasping, Moé clamped her hands over mouth. Eyes welled with tears. “Wh-why are you laughing? Do you think we can’t beat you? Wahhhhh!” Sobbing, Moé rubbed her eyes.
Fasshon stomped a boot. “Whoa, making Moé cry is not cool. Totally unpogchamp of you!”
“You punk!” Tsunade punched Rantaro in the stomach.
“Urk!”
“Stupid, Tar,” Tsunade muttered, using her nickname, which compared Rantaro to sticky black tar. “Haven’t changed at all.”
Tsunade and Fasshon turned Moé around and guided her towards the clothing racks. Over her shoulder, Tsunade called, “Let’s git this trial done with. We have ten minutes each ta pick out an outfit from the selection. Best outfit wins.”
Shaking his head, Rantaro turned to a circular rack of clothes. All were men’s clothing near his size. The other half of the room were young girl outfits in their size and style. Rantaro frowned. Kokichi went through great lengths to set this up… Surely there must be more reason than appeasing my sisters. But what?
Behind him, the triplets tried choosing an outfit. Moé held up a red dress with a sweetheart neckline and bow to Tsunade. “Th-this is cute.”
Tsunade blushed. “Q-quit it, I ain’t a baby!” Moé’s lower lip trembled. “Oh, shoot, don’t cry.”
Fasshon held up a striped tie and polka dot shirt. “No, go bold!”
Biting her lip, Tsunade ducked her head. “I ain’t feminine or a fashionista. I’m just a stupid tomboy. I won’t look good no matter what I wear.”
“Now, that just isn’t true.”
A cowboy hat was placed atop Tsunade’s head. She looked up to Rantaro standing behind her. The Amami brother handed Tsunade Moé’s dress and Fasshon’s tie. Tsunade balked. “I… I can’t wear this stuff!”
“Why not? They’d suit you. Cute but a bit of a rough ’n’ tumble look. Not many could pull that off, yeah? And afterwards, if you’d like, I can style your hair and paint your nails.”
Eyes wide, Fasshon clapped her hands. “OMG, OMG, OMG that would be amaaazing! I can’t get my drills right; they fall apart after a couple hours. And hair’s, like, one thing I ultra gotta nail to be a model.”
Moé blinked. “Y-you always pushed us away when we asked you to paint our nails as kids…”
Face red, Tsunade looked away. “W-well, that’ll hafta wait for another time. Our big sises are waiting for ya, Tar.” Giving the order over coms. device, Tsunade opened the reinforced doors.
Fasshon raised her hands, cheering, “Uwu!”
Rantaro winced. Was that supposed to be “Woohoo”?
Turning to Tsunade, Rantaro asked, “I thought whoever picked the best outfit was supposed to win? I’m not wearing anything special.”
“Stupid. I’m in the best outfit now, and it was yer pick.”
Moé clasped Rantaro’s hands with both of hers. Smiled warmly. “Go on and win so we can have more fun together later, okay?”
“Will do.”
Leaving the triplets behind, Rantaro passed through the doors. Before him lay a cozy, small karaoke room. A TV played a pop concert. The song blared from overhead speakers. Like a disco ball, circular lights were projected onto the dark walls. The lights pulsated different colors in time with the beat. Even the table glowed neon yellow.
Saba sat on one of the poufy couches flanking the table, a sheathed saber in her lap. Epaulettes hung off her crisp, double-breasted uniform. Eyes wide, she lowered her teacup. “Ah, the prodigal son. Let me get a good look at you.” She studied him. “I’m unimpressed. You should have stayed lost.”
Rantaro stepped back. What didn’t she like?
Karako, her 16-year-old twin, sang and danced before the TV. She waved at Rantaro.
Emao, who was a year younger than them, sat in the back corner reading a book. Her long dark hair completely covered one eye. She had wrapped a black cape around her DICE bodysuit uniform. “Ugh, all this noise is disturbing the cosmic balance. And pissing me off.”
Karako flung her fists up and down, side ponytail bobbing. Her uniform resembled Hatsune Miku’s with its detached sleeves and skirt. “Aw, c’mon guys. Get PUMPED! There’s our reunion with brother, dangerous trials, and Gustin Dieber’s sexy voice. How can you not be psyched?”
Saba sipped her tea. “The only dangerous thing is how much of a bimbo you are.”
Emao groaned. “Can’t I devise a hex for people who pour milk before cereal in peace?”
Huffing, Karako pointed her microphone at Emao. “No! It’s karaoke trial time. I won’t accept Ran-chan as my brother unless he loves Gustin Dieber more than anyone else, including family!”
Rantaro raised a brow. “Well, that’s not healthy.”
“Let’s begin!” Fist in the air, Karako swayed to a pop song. She matched pitch for pitch but screeched a little on the high notes. Saba belted the notes as if for a marching chant. Emao was so tone-deaf, Karako yanked the mic from her hand and shoved it towards Rantaro.
Arms crossed, Karako smirked. “I put on Dieber’s best single for you to sing. It’s tragically overlooked so only the truest of fans would know—”
Moving to the groove, Rantaro began, “There’s gonna be one less lonely girl…”
Karako gasped. “Those moves… That’s the DDR dance!” Her eyes welled with tears. “You used to get annoyed at me singing Dieber all the time, but you learned a whole dance routine of his…” Sobbing, Karako covered her eyes with an arm. “Today I’ve learned the true meaning of never gonna give you up or let you down!”
Saba coughed into a fist. “You went AWOL for a long time, but just as easily one could say we deserted you, having disobeyed your orders and getting lost. So long as we both keep reaching for new feats, then your commander is satisfied. Not that you’re capable.”
Looking away, Emao clutched her dark arts book to her chest. “Sappy stuff, not my thing.”
Rantaro smiled. “What about doing horoscopes or going to a cat café with me instead?”
“Horoscopes, no. Cat café, yes. Should be soothing for my cosmic soul spot.”
“Haha, sounds like a plan.”
Speaking into her ear com., Karako unlocked the exit. “Good luck, Ran-chan. The next trial is uber hard…”
“I’ll be fine. After coming this far, I can’t stop here.” Rantaro stepped through the doors. All right, final trial. Will Megane be there?
Squinting at the bright lights, Rantaro gazed into the room. Gasped. A full-length basketball court stood before him. Bay lights shone down from overhead high beams. Rolled mesh carts full of basketballs and volleyballs sat in the back. A staff-only door stood next to the reinforced double doors. His shoes squeaked on the waxed floor. Voice echoed. “Whoa…” A full underground basketball court? Kokichi really did pull out all the stops. “Wait.” Something in the middle of the court caught his eye. His stomach sank. “Why is there a net?”
Two young women wearing DICE jerseys stood on the court, one holding a basketball, the other a volleyball. They pointed at Rantaro, chorusing, “That’s because we’re playing…
“Basketvolleyball!”
“Volleybasketball!”
Growling, they glared at each other.
Rantaro exhaled. Ah, Riko and Saeko …
The seventeen-year-old, Riko, shook her head, tossing her short brown bangs. “Look, everyone knows basketball is far more intense than volleyball by getting up close with the opposing team.”
“Aren’t ya cute?” Laughing loudly, Saeko patted Riko’s head. The elder sister had spiky blond hair and makeup. “Volleyball takes skill, timing, and familiarity with all positions. In basketball, you just mindlessly bounce a ball and throw it around.”
Riko smiled wide, mouth twitching. “Oh, is that so?” She seized Saeko’s wrist in a vice grip. Saeko stuck her tongue out.
Hands raised, Rantaro stepped onto the court. “Name of the trial aside, it’s good to see you. What would you like me to play?”
Saeko tsked. “Don’t look down on us. This is a test to see how much of a man you are!”
Smirking, Riko dribbled the basketball. “In basketvolleyball, you have to both serve volleyballs and make baskets to score. Team with the most points wins. With my trained eye, I can scan your physique and see you don’t make the cut. But maybe you’ll surprise me. Let’s see it!”
Rantaro froze. “W-wait, both at the same time? How can you throw a basket with a net and from halfway across the court?”
“So? I know a miracle worker who can score from the other side of the court!”
Saeko tossed the volleyball up and down. “Remember, we won’t forgive you for leaving us unless you pass all four trials.”
Rantaro’s heart pounded. “What exactly do you expect from two versus one?” Rantaro threw a hand to the side. “This’ll be more like dodgeball slaughter. It’s impossible.”
“Get ready!” shouted Riko.
What do I do?
“That’s enough!” A new voice cried.
The shout’s echo rang throughout the court. Everyone turned.
Megane strode through the double doors, footsteps resounding. Her crisp vest and long skirt flowed around her. Dark green hair was tied back in a loose, low braid. “You may have charmed the others…” Megane adjusted her glasses, eyes boring into Rantaro. “But I won’t forgive you. I know your true nature underneath that smiling façade.”
Megane… Eyes closed, Rantaro dipped his head. Not a day goes by that I don’t regret the words I said back then.
A year before attending Hope’s Peak, Rantaro stood on the deck of his father’s moored ship. The cityscape’s windows glowed like fireflies. On the deck behind him, string lights had been strung. Rowdy teenagers—sons and daughters of friends of his father’s company—danced, laughed loudly, and blared the stereo. Punch glass in hand, Rantaro leaned against the railing, gazing down at the moon’s reflection on the water.
Megane emerged from below deck. She wore a harlequin patterned dress with pearls around the waist and trim. Spying Rantaro, she approached him. “There you are, I’ve been—what are you wearing?”
Rantaro had thrown on a V-neck and wrinkled cargo shorts from the bottom of his drawer. He shrugged. Glanced over his shoulder at Megane. “Could say the same to you.”
Misty-eyed, Megane rubbed the dress’s sleeve between her fingers. “Fasshon picked it out, ever hopeless at style. Not that her older brother cared to teach her whenever she asked.”
Exhaling, Rantaro hung his head. “Megane, enough. We’ve been through this so many times. They’re gone, okay? They’re all gone.”
“So what? We’re supposed to pretend they never existed?”
“Hey, Ran!” Across the deck, a guest raised his glass. “We’re about to play spin the bottle. Come on!”
Rantaro’s bangs overshadowed his eyes. “What else can we do? Searching for them on our own is crazy. We have to enjoy life without them. Face it, Meg.” Rantaro chugged his punch. Pushing off the railing, he approached the party-goers, passing Megane.
“We’ll never see them again.”
Megane whipped around, green eyes flashing. “I rather live a short life searching for them than living a lifetime without them, schmoozing up to strangers!”
Lips parted, Rantaro stared. Everyone quieted. Braid flying, Megane ran below deck.
The next morning, someone had stolen some of their father’s money. Megane was nowhere to be found.
Head bowed, Rantaro closed his eyes. His soft voice carried throughout the court. “Megane, you have every right to be angry. To put me through as many trials as you like.” Eyes as hard as flint, Rantaro pressed a hand to his chest. “But I’m not the brother I used to be. After you left, I realized how empty my life was. I traveled the world searching for everyone. I played Pokémon, learned how to paint nails and style hair, listened to all of Gustin Dieber’s—”
“Such trivial things mean nothing!” Hands trembling, Megane balled her skirt. Tears welled. “You’re too late. I—Huh?”
The ground rumbled. Gasping, Rantaro backed up. Shot a wide-eyed glance at Saeko and Riko. What’s going—?
A giant machine burst through the back wall. Its hand seized Megane and lifted her in the air. She screamed. Across the coffin-shaped cockpit was the word “Exisal.” Machinery humming and whirling, it towered over them. “Surpriiiise!” boomed Kokichi’s voice. “Miss me?”
Gasping, Riko dropped her basketball. “Kokichi onii-san?”
Eyes wide, Saeko started. “Wh-where did you get that…?”
Rantaro glared. “Let her go!”
“Sure! Anything for my beloved Rantaro. Actually, nope. That’s a lie. Facing me is supposed to be the prize for surviving all the trials! I’m the elite four champion! But I got bored with waiting.”
“Megane onee-chan!”
The remaining Amani sisters, led by Karako, rushed into the basketball court through the double doors. At the sight of Megane kidnapped, Moé started crying. Tsunade thrust a finger. “Hey! Whaddya think yer doing to my sister?!”
Umi squeezed Pika’s hand. “I thought we were family, Kichi onii-chan.”
“Family, ha!” The Exisal waved a hand. “Honestly? I couldn’t care less about you! You’re just tools for me to get my vengeance against Rantaro!”
Rantaro’s eyes widened. “Me? What did I do to you?”
“Oh, I’ll tell you, Mr. Adventurer. You were always so aggravating back at Hope’s Peak…”
Laughing, Kokichi raced up to Kaito in the hall and shoved him. Walking backwards, Kokichi crossed his arms behind his head. “Whaddya think your chances are of passing today’s history test? 30%? Oops, sorry, misspoke. I meant 3%. Nee-heehee.”
Exhaling, Kaito shook his head, not even bothering to look at Kokichi. “Shut up, Kokichi. No one likes you.”
Kokichi stilled. Kaito passed by him, not looking back.
“Oh, Rantaro!”
Kokichi turned to see Kaito approaching the adventurer, hand raised. “Thanks for tutoring me in history, man. I dunno how you manage traveling and keeping up with studying enough to tutor someone.”
Rantaro chuckled. Ran a hand through his green locks. “I wouldn’t say I’m especially smart or anything. Just trying to help a friend, yeah?”
“Rantaro!”
As the bell rang for lunch, Shuichi exited a classroom. Shuichi left Kaede’s side to walk alongside Rantaro and Kaito. “We’re going out tomorrow, right? Movies, fast food, and sleeping over again.”
Smiling, Rantaro laid a hand on Shuichi. “Absolutely. Men’s night out with the whole class. Thought it would be fun.”
Kokichi watched the trio as they walked past him. “Wha…? I wasn’t invited…”
Shoulders tense, Headmaster Kirigiri rounded a corner. “Oma Kokichi! You won’t be getting off lightly for TP’ing the teacher’s lounge.”
Kokichi flinched. Uh oh, skedaddle time!
Laughing, Rantaro placed a hand across Kokichi’s shoulders, pinning him in place. Gave a full-watt smile to the headmaster. “Now, now, Headmaster Kirigiri. Halloween’s coming up, and Kokichi didn’t hurt anyone. Maybe you even had a good laugh. Rest assured, we’ll keep an eye on him.”
Eyes narrowed, Headmaster Kirigiri studied them for a moment. Waving a hand, he turned away. “Just clean it up by the end of the day.”
Rantaro looked down at Kokichi. “Now, Kokichi, I know being a troublemaker is your… pastime, but I’m not always going to be around to cover you. Maybe it’s time to grow up a little?” Chuckling, Rantaro patted Kokichi’s shoulder. Kaito and Shuichi snickered.
Kokichi glared.
Inside the Exisal, Kokichi spat a wad of phlegm. “Back at school, everyone was like, ‘Rantaro, you’re sooo smart!’ and ‘Rantaro, will you go out with me?’ Even the teachers were wrapped around his finger! You were like the Ultimate Chad and everyone was frothing at the bit for you. God, so annoying.” The Exisal lifted Megane in the air. “So I figured if I found all of Rantaro’s sisters first, made them love me, and gave them a chance to unload their aggression against you, that would show you who’s the real Ultimate.”
Emao snorted. “And I thought I was emo.”
“Indeed.” Saba drew her saber and pointed it at the Exisal. “That is the most pathetic reasoning I have ever heard. Allow me to put you out of your misery.”
Pom-poms raised, Chiru jumped up and down. “Fight and get Meg-nee back! I’ll cheer you on!”
“Sorry, kiddos. Love and fwendship ain’t taking down this bad boy!” Kokichi thrust the Gatling gun hand at them. Exposed wires at its joints hissed and sparked.
Rantaro tensed. “Everyone, run!”
Tsunade and Fasshon pushed a sobbing Moé to the forefront. Fasshon shouted, “Only, like, the cruelest of jerks would hurt Moé!”
Kokichi hesitated. “Huh?”
Grinning, Saba leaped onto the Gatling arm. She ran up the arm’s length, slicing the Gatling gun in two before stabbing her sword into the elbow joint. Smoke arose.
“Hey! Take it easy on the merchandise, will ya?”
Like an idol striking a pose, Karaoke threw out a hand towards her younger sister. “Emao!”
“Yeah, yeah…”
Turning on the coms. device, Karaoke’s and Emao’s screechy and tone-deaf singing of Gustin Dieber’s songs barraged Kokichi’s cockpit with sound.
Grimacing, Kokichi covered an ear with a hand. The Exisal raised a foot.
Grinning, Riko and Saeko dumped the metal mesh carts full of basketballs and volleyballs onto the floor. The Exisal stomped the foot down on several balls. The foot slid forward on them, causing the entire machine to tip backwards.
Umi jumped in the air. “Now, Taro-nii!”
Like an Olympic long jumper, Rantaro leapt onto the broken Gatling gun. Raced up the arm and drop-kicked the cockpit. The Exisal wobbled. Then, groaning, it leaned back and crashed to the ground. The entire room vibrated on impact.
Laughing, Pika, Chiru, and Umi raced forward. Hands joined, they jumped up and down on the cockpit until the door dented inwards, creating an opening.
Rantaro clomped across the machine, approaching its hand. He offered a hand to help Megane up. “You all right?” Nodding, she accepted his hand, mumbling her thanks. He pulled her up.
The Amami family gathered around the Exisal cockpit. Saba grabbed the door’s exposed edge and ripped it open. Inside, Kokichi lay still, eyes closed and head turned to the side. Saeko raised a brow. “Uh, is he…?”
Eyes shooting open, Kokichi sat up. The girls flinched. Expression neutral, he blinked at them. Once, twice. Then he burst into tears. “Wahhhhhh! I… I just wanted love and attention. Aahhhhhh!”
Smiling, Moé grasped her dress. Spoke in her honey-toned voice. “D-don’t cry, Kichi nee-chan. You took care of us for so long. Now we have two older brothers—”
“Nuh uh, I hate you! You’re all meanies. Traitors!” Kokichi jumped to his feet and threw out a hand. “You’re all fired from my organization. Fired! I want my uniforms back and dry cleaned!” Pulling down an eyelid, Kokichi stuck out his tongue. He fled through the gym’s staff-only door.
Chuckling, Rantaro rubbed the back of his head. “Quite a handful, yeah? He really is like a little kid.”
His sisters crowded around Rantaro, giving him hugs and congratulatory pats on the back for besting the Exisal. Head bowed, Megane hung back. Rantaro waved off his siblings. Approached her. “I’m sorry, Megane, everyone. You’re right, I was too late to save you. Too slow to learn your favorite things.” His grass-green eyes softened. “But I’m here now. I swear from here on out I’m going to be the best older brother I can be. And if I mess up, could you help me, Megane?” He flashed a cheesy grin. “Knock me upside the head or something.”
“Th-that’s…” Face flushed, Megane smiled through her tears. “That’s all I ever wanted.”
Karaoke fist pumped. Umi squeezed Rantaro’s leg. “Yay, big brother is back!”
The Amami family embraced, their laughter, sniffing, and cheers echoing throughout the court.
After closing the staff-only door behind him, Kokichi rolled his shoulders and groaned. “Ughhh…! I hate mushy stuff like that.”
A bald, rotund man wearing a DICE uniform sat before a wall of monitors. Scoffing, he sipped tea from a cup. “Another lie, hmm?”
“Yeah, well…” Kokichi set a hand on the back of the chair, gazing at the screens. The monitors showed every trial room, including the basketball court where the Amami siblings were hugging. “I know what it’s like to not have a family.
“Welp, time to eat cake!” Grinning, Kokichi headed to the back door, shoving a man with gravity-defying blond hair in passing. “Do ya think we can eat all the cake by the time they’re done?”
“Hell yeah, my dude! Heck, we can even have an eating contest. Whahaha!”
“Don’t you even think about it. That cake is reserved for the party… Wait, where do you think you’re going? Get back here…!”