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The sound of whirring metal drowned out everything except the frantic thumping of his heart in his ears. His eyes were closed, of course. He’d closed them as soon as he’d climbed inside the press, swapping places with Kaito. No reason to watch it steadily closing in. Part of it still didn’t feel real, as if the awful machine would jam at the last minute and they’d have to wait for the poison coursing through his veins to finish him off - and then he felt the cold metal touch the tip of his nose.
He still had time to roll out of the press if he did it right now, right this second. But then Maki would be the blackened, the mastermind wouldn’t be stopped and all Kokichi’s careful planning would go to waste. So he didn’t move, and soon he couldn’t move, the pressure forcing his head to one side.
It happened so quickly and so agonisingly slowly at the same time. Pain. Pain all over. The ear stuck down against the bottom of the press started roaring and aching, and his body started flailing instinctively, writhing against the powerful hydraulics. Even now, when he’d decided he was more use to this game dead than alive, his body clung to the animalistic instinct to fight for his life.
His hands tried to move, tried to clutch hold of his screaming temples, but there was no room now, no room to draw breath to scream. Just pressure pressure pressure, for seconds that felt like endless hours, until his skull finally cracked and caved, until the press squashed his organs and crumbled his bones into powder…
Kokichi opened his eyes.
***
Shuichi woke up to screaming. Loud, horrified screaming, more like howling, guttural and animalistic and terrified. He was jolted from sleep immediately, his heart rate skyrocketing.
“Kokichi? Kokichi!” Shuichi quickly scanned the room for any potential threats. Nothing. Just Kokichi, sitting bolt upright and screaming like someone was tearing off his limbs by force.
“Kokichi?” Shuichi mumbled, gentle now. He reached out and touched Kokichi’s shoulder.
Big mistake. Kokichi recoiled like Shuichi’s hand was red hot, tumbling right off the bed and smacking his temple on the corner of the bedside cabinet with a sickening thunk. The screaming cut off immediately, ominous silence falling over the room.
“Oh god! Shit, I’m so sorry,” Shuichi cried. The initial screaming hadn’t really scared him once the shock wore off - they’d both been in this position before, reliving the events of the game - but this was different. Kokichi hadn’t reacted like this before to Shuichi’s touch. He still hadn’t spoken, though Shuichi continued to call his name. He was terrified Kokichi had managed to hit his head hard enough to knock himself unconscious.
Shuichi ran around the bed. No, Kokichi was very clearly awake, his eyes blown wide, propped up on his hands and knees. A thin trickle of blood ran down his cheek from his temple. He was shaking so badly he was struggling to stay upright, his cheeks flushed and his hair sticking to his damp face, plastered to the sweaty skin. He was biting down hard on his lip but he couldn’t quite hold back his shaky gasps.
“Kokichi?” It was a relief that he was conscious, but Shuichi hadn’t seen him in such a frantic state since they’d started sharing a bed for comfort. He looked so… so young and vulnerable with his oversized shirt hanging off one shoulder and his hair all tousled at the back from his tossing and turning. “Kokichi, can you hear me?”
Kokichi wouldn’t look at him. He took another gasping breath and forced his lips to arch up in his usual cheeky grin (or at least an approximation of it). “Gotcha! Did I scare you, Shumai? I pranked you good!” He was clearly trying to sound teasing, but the gasps didn’t stop. His voice rose up and down like he was singing scales.
Shuichi had to admit, it was pretty impressive how dedicated Kokichi was to keeping up the lies and pretence, even when he was very clearly near tears and struggling to catch his breath.
“Kokichi, stop. You know you don’t have to pretend with me. Enough with the lies,” Shuichi sighed. He sank to the floor too, making sure he didn’t touch Kokichi at all yet. “Did you have a nightmare?”
“Nope. Nothing happened. I never get nightmares. I was just tricking you, Shumai. You’re only making yourself look more stupid by refusing to believe it,” Kokichi insisted. He had to pause every few words to suck in another desperate gasp, but he still continued on as if he was speaking as confidently as always.
“Nobody could fake a scream like that.”
“You’ve no idea how capable my acting skills are, Shumai. I can fake anything. Tears, misery, screams, all of it. You shouldn’t ever take me seriously.” The blood had reached his chin, dripping onto the floor.
“So you smacked your head on the bedside table for your joke?” Shuichi said doubtfully.
“Ah. That was a slight miscalculation on my part. I intended to fall off the bed, certainly. Didn’t quite mean to cut a chunk out of my face in the process.”
He sounded so convincing - and that was what really worried Shuichi. “Kokichi… How much of this stuff do you really believe?”
The question seemed to catch Kokichi off guard. “What?”
“You lie so… so confidently. Like you believe them all as soon as they leave your mouth. Like saying them out loud will make them true,” Shuichi said. “I know you’re not okay. You know you’re not okay. There’s nobody else to convince. Why do you still fight it? Why do you still push me away?”
There was a long, pregnant pause. Kokichi’s soft gasping seemed to increase again. His expression didn’t change, but Shuichi watched his eyes fill with tears - and since Kokichi blinked fiercely to clear them, he assumed they were real.
“I thought you were the Ultimate Detective, Shumai,” he spat. “Not the Ultimate Psychiatrist.” But then he paused. “Lies are better. Easier. You should try it yourself sometime. You’ll be surprised how easy it is to get people to leave you alone.”
“I don’t want to be alone. And I don’t think you do either, deep down. You’ve just got so used to telling yourself you’re better off on your own that you’ve started believing it.” Shuichi dared shuffle closer, tentative and slow, like Kokichi was a startled animal that could flee or bite at any second. “It was about the simulation, wasn’t it?” he whispered. “Your dream. Only the simulation could get a scream like that out of you.”
Kokichi lowered his head. Several drops of water pattered to the floor as well as the blood.
“Let me help.” Shuichi moved closer still, but as soon as his fingertips brushed Kokichi’s arm, he jolted away again. Then he suddenly turned to the side and ducked right under the bed, surprising Shuichi so much he couldn’t grab him in time. Kokichi crawled past dust bunnies and forgotten socks and curled up in a ball, far away from the edges of the bed, with his knees to his chest.
“I’m not lying!” he insisted relentlessly. “I never have nightmares. I want to be alone. I don’t care about any of you. I wish you’d all get lost and leave me alone. Especially you, Shuichi. I hate you! I only sleep with you because you’re so stupid and pathetic you’d probably cry all night without me, and my room is right next door and you’d keep me awake. Did you really think I cared about you? Some detective you are!”
Shuichi knew Kokichi always did this, knew he got mean and spiteful when confronted. It was his second form of defence if the lies had failed. It had happened before, and usually Shuichi could brush it off as the manipulation tactic it was - but perhaps Shuichi felt more sensitive than usual that night. Perhaps it was because it was past one in the morning and they were both tired, or because he’d grown so much closer to Kokichi, or because it had looked like they might be getting somewhere and then Kokichi kicked them both back to square one. But Shuichi felt his own eyes start burning.
He stumbled to his feet and sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, put his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands. The sound of his soft sobbing soon filled the silent room. Shuichi didn’t care who saw him crying. He didn’t need to suffer alone like this just because Kokichi had condemned himself to solitude. He was pretty tempted to leave altogether and find Kaito or Kaede. Why should he try to help Kokichi when he blocked every single olive branch Shuichi extended, and hurled abuse at him into the bargain? Maybe Shuichi was wasting his time, just like Maki and Kaito kept telling him…
A clammy hand grabbed Shuichi’s ankle from under the bed, true horror movie style. A second grabbed his other leg, and the hands shook both ankles like a prisoner rattling the bars of his cell. “Stop it! Stop crying, Shumai. That’s not what I wanted.”
“What did you expect?” Shuichi sobbed. “You were the one being spiteful and cruel. What did you think I’d do, throw my arms around you? While you tell me you hate me and I’m pathetic and stupid? After everything we’ve been doing together since we woke up! Just because you don’t care what people think doesn’t mean I don’t, Kokichi!”
Silence. The hands on Shuichi’s legs retreated, and he cried harder - and then there was a rustling beneath him and Kokichi emerged, covered in dust, the hair at his temple all gummed up with blood. He dashed to the bathroom and came running back with a wadded handful of toilet paper, shoving them into Shuichi’s face so forcefully it nearly took his nose off. “Here. Good job you’re not Miu, right? Get it, the toilet paper?”
“Don’t joke about that!”
“Okay, keep your hair on. I was just trying to lighten the mood a bit. Make you laugh instead.” He stood in front of Shuichi, biting his thumbnail almost nervously. “You know I was lying, right Shumai?”
“How can I know that? You lie constantly. How am I meant to know what to take seriously with you? And even if it was a lie, you can’t just say terrible things and act like it’s okay because you didn’t mean it,” Shuichi said, mopping his face with the loo roll.
“I was trying to make you go away because you were making me feel…” Kokichi waved his hands around in frustration, like he could snatch the right word from the air.
“Feel what? I was trying to be nice!”
“Exactly! You act all innocent and concerned, but you’re trying to make me feel bad.” Kokichi started sniffling, eyes brimming with tears. “That’s soooo mean, Shumai!”
Shuichi paused, halfway to reaching out for Kokichi before he thought the tears might be fake. He squinted at him, wishing Kokichi wasn’t such a good actor - but when the loud wailing started up he knew the tears were false. Fucking Kokichi…
“Don’t. You know that’s not what I’m doing,” Shuichi said irritably. “People can be nice without any sinister intentions, Kokichi.”
“You’re too nice,” Kokichi groaned. “You couldn’t even look the first murderer you caught in the eyes. You’re too soft, Shuichi. You should’ve stared right at him and grinned and popped champagne because you won. You beat him. It’s his own dumb fault if he can’t set up a murder properly.”
“Stop it! That’s a terrible thing to say!” Shuichi cried. He shook his head, trying to stop the anger bubbling up inside him. “I know you’re just saying all this awful stuff to distract me. It’s not going to work.”
“Am not! It perfectly leads into my argument,” Kokichi said grandly. “Don’t you think Supreme Leaders know how to give good speeches? My point was that you’re too nice. To Maki, Kaito, Miu, Angie, all our irritating classmates. And you’re so nice to me that it makes me feel… all weird and gross and tense inside when you try to get information out of me. Like you’re trying to pick my brains all the time.”
“You’re talking like I’m interrogating you!” Shuichi snorted with laughter, though he was still sniffly and tear stained.
“You should be more careful, Shumai. Being nice just means people take advantage of you,” Kokichi warned. “I know it’s a detective thing to try to identify with the convicts to get more information, but you’re walking a fine line between building a rapport and being a gullible idiot.”
“I’m not gathering data about you, for God’s sake!” Shuichi cried. “I was just trying to get to know you better. So I could help you.”
Kokichi clutched hold of his stomach like he’d been punched. “Ugh! Yuck, you’re doing it again! Don’t start crying again, but I really am fine, Shumai. I don’t need any help. Even if I have some nightmares now and then, I can handle it on my own. I always have.” He plastered the grin on his face again.
Kokichi looked even more ridiculous now that his pyjamas and messy hair were coated with bits of dust from under the bed. The blood was drying into a sticky crust on his cheek. When he looked very carefully, Shuichi could see his hands were still shaking. No matter how much he needed to pretend, Kokichi was hurting too.
Shuichi sighed. “Come on,” he mumbled, grabbing Kokichi by the collar. “Let’s get your wound cleaned up.”
No point tackling Kokichi head on, Shuichi could see that now. You can’t fight fire with fire. He should’ve realised that sooner - after all, Kokichi wouldn’t even cuddle properly unless it was dark in their room. Kokichi seemed taken aback by this sudden change in tactics, squinting at Shuichi suspiciously. Shuichi felt Kokichi’s eyes burning into him all the way to the kitchen; he did his best to ignore it.
The kitchen was thankfully empty, and Shuichi heaved a sigh of relief. Almost all of his classmates had experienced persistent insomnia and nightmares since they came out of the simulation, and the communal areas had a lot of traffic even in the small hours. It only took Shuichi thirty seconds to rifle through the cupboards and find the first aid kit, but when he turned around he saw Kokichi had stacked two chairs on top of each other on the dining room table, having to stand on a third chair to reach high enough.
Shuichi stared at him. “Why..?”
“If Kaito comes in he’s gonna think we have a poltergeist.”
“Put them back.”
“Aww! But his face will be priceless when he sees this! Don’t be a buzzkill, Shumai,” Kokichi whined. He pulled his pouty face and let his eyes brim with tears.
“Don’t think you can get round me with crocodile tears. Kaito has put up with plenty of pranks from you, Kokichi. Even more than me.”
“Yeah, well. I prank Kaito because I hate him. I prank you because I like you,” Kokichi said, drawing out the last word in a playful singsong.
“Funny,” Shuichi muttered - though he wasn’t completely sure how true Kokichi’s words were. Yes, he’d been speaking in that jesting way and his face was stretched in a smile, but Shuichi had noticed that Kaito’s pranks were always… meaner than his own. Shuichi got silly things like popping candy in his coffee and buckets of water and confetti on top of his door - annoying, yes, but not really upsetting. Kaito’s pranks were almost exclusively horror or ghost related, and Shuichi was sure that couldn’t be a coincidence, not with how meticulously Kokichi planned things. He knew how scared Kaito was of anything supernatural. Shuichi sighed heavily. He put that on his long mental list of things he needed to give Kokichi a scolding for at a later date.
“Come over to the sink,” Shuichi said. “You’ve got blood in your hair. Dust too. Dust all over. What did you crawl under the bed for?”
Kokichi shrugged, coming to flop against the counter while Shuichi wet a cloth under the tap. “I thought you were gonna hug me or something gross like that.”
“And that would be so terrible?” Shuichi said, sponging the dried blood carefully.
No answer this time. Kokichi’s face was blank and emotionless. His hands were still shaking. Shuichi kept his eyes on the head wound, dabbing as carefully as if the small cut was a giant oozing gash. “So… Did you want to talk about your nightmare?”
“Nope.” Kokichi didn’t miss a beat.
“Okay, I’ll rephrase: I think you should talk about it. You keep so many secrets, Kokichi. Doesn’t it get exhausting?”
“Not for me! I’m great at keeping secrets, right? Bet I wouldn’t even crack if you tortured me,” Kokichi gloated. Then he looked up at Shuichi, not quite meeting his eyes. “Why do you care so much anyway? Taking after Mr Hero Complex Space Idiot?”
“I care about you,” Shuichi said firmly. “God help me, I really do. I don’t want you bottling all this up anymore. I know what it’s like to feel so overwhelmed with anxiety and stress you can’t think straight. I know how terrible it is. And when I heard you scream tonight…” Shuichi trailed off, shuddering.
Kokichi had gone very still, his head down. Shuichi stuck a large plaster over his cut, brushing damp purple strands out of the way. He took a deep breath, then let the hand trail to cup Kokichi’s cheek. “You don’t have to be strong all the time,” he whispered, his voice as light and delicate as a soap bubble.
Kokichi made a noise between a sob and a groan. “I was conscious for four seconds,” he blurted out.
Shuichi blinked. “What?”
“That stupid press must’ve been on the slowest setting. Four seconds feels like forever when you’re being crushed.”
His head was still down, but Shuichi felt the hand cupping his cheek grow wet. “Oh God… Kokichi, I’m so sorry.” Shuichi pulled him into an embrace without thinking. Kokichi stiffened, standing rigid as a statue in Shuichi’s arms, but he didn’t pull away.
“I thought about you, you know,” he admitted in a rush, as if he felt he needed to purge all the truth before the lies took over again. “Before the pain got too bad to think. I was thinking about how you better not work out this mystery and wreck my plan. I thought I’d come back and haunt you forever if you managed to crack the case.”
Shuichi laughed shakily. “Sorry about that.” He paused. “And… I’m sorry about what I said after… after Gonta died. About how you were alone and always would be. I was so angry, we all were, but it was a terrible thing to say to anyone.”
Shuichi felt Kokichi shrug in his arms. “You were only telling the truth.”
“I’m here now, aren’t I?” Shuichi mumbled. “I’m here.”
He tried to disentangle their embrace to go back to the privacy of the bedroom but Kokichi clung tighter to his waist, unwilling to let go now (it was always one extreme to another with him) and Shuichi was forced to carry him. Shuichi could feel a bloom of wetness on his shirt, which would explain why Kokichi was so reluctant to show his face. Contrary to his overly-dramatic fake bawling, when Kokichi cried genuine tears they were almost silent.
Shuichi turned off the lights and clung to Kokichi in the dark, thinking about that awful killing game simulation. About the blood spilling all over the hydraulic press; about Kaede swinging from side to side on a rope: about Kirumi splattered across the floor; about Kaito with blood dripping from his pale lips. It wasn’t long before he was crying too - and he felt Kokichi’s skinny arms go up around his neck, patting his head clumsily, his face still buried deep in Shuichi’s chest.
“If you tell anyone about this,” Kokichi whispered, “I’m going to send members of my organisation to cut out your tongue.”
Shuichi laughed shakily, the tears pouring. “I won’t. I’ll show you I’m trustworthy. I promise.”
They both cried until the silvery-grey light of dawn was shining through the window, when they finally drifted back to sleep. They slept through the morning, would’ve slept longer if Kaito hadn’t come pounding on the door demanding to know if Kokichi was holding Shuichi hostage.
Kokichi was his usual bouncy, hyperactive self, teasing Shuichi, telling lies, refusing to help make the bed or fold his pyjamas because “Supreme Leaders have people for that, Shumai.” He seemed a different boy to the one who’d wept with Shuichi half the night. Shuichi felt he really should acknowledge it somehow; Kokichi couldn’t act like he had no emotions forever, couldn’t simply pretend any displays of his true feelings didn’t happen.
“Hey,” Shuichi said, grabbing hold of Kokichi’s sleeve before they left the room. “I’m… I’m really proud of you for opening up to me a little last night. Thank you for letting me share that with you.”
Kokichi stared at him - and made a very loud and obnoxious series of vomiting noises. “You’re doing it again! Mr Sickly-Sweet, putting me off breakfast.” But then he paused. “I couldn’t just leave you weeping away by yourself last night. Since you need me so much, Shumai, I’d better stay here every night from now on. Who knows when you’ll have another impromptu breakdown.”
“That sounds great,” Shuichi said, smiling. He knew Kokichi enough to translate by now. Kokichi wanted their secret nighttime cuddles to continue as much he did, he just couldn’t bring himself to admit it - yet. Shuichi would work on that with him too, but this healing process would take a lot of time for both of them. Being honest at night was a lot better than not at all. Somehow, they seemed to be able to help heal each other. It was a start.