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Sunsets are rather beautiful.
Kokichi hums and kicks his legs playfully as he watches the splashes of yellow mix into reds and oranges, nature’s own canvas. He pretends to hold a paint brush and runs it across the sky. Almost as if it bent to his will, clouds drift off the canvas to clear off the sky.
The evening breeze blows his tousled hair around, but it feels nice. Kokichi likes it. It adds onto this aesthetic he wants in the moment, a peaceful evening with a perfect sunset, slight breeze, and the smell of strawberries somewhere in the distance. Someone must be selling fruit.
He’d go as far to say the evening is perfect... if all the sirens from fifty stories below shut the hell up.
“Sir,” a man says into a megaphone. Kokichi can barely hear him. “Please back away from the edge of the building.”
In response, he kicks a shoe off into the crowd forming around the base of the building. It hits someone’s shoulder, and Kokichi chuckles. With the amount of cellphones probably recording, surely someone caught it on film. He hopes at some point it becomes one of those bad edit videos on YouTube that’s in a “Try Not To Laugh!!!!” challenge.
“We need you to step back,” the man below warns again.
Kokichi cups a hand to his ear, leaning forward. “Can’t step back if I’m sitting.”
His words are carried away with the wind. Not like he expects someone so far away to hear him. No one ever listens anyways. It’s a moot point.
There’s more reds in the sky now. As pretty as it is, he wants to see the sky in a deep blue before all colors combine into a deep black forever. He picked the perfect building, too. He’ll have a full view of the sky for about sixty—no, seventy-three percent of his flight.
What human doesn’t want to fly?
The crowd almost doubles when he stands to stretch his back. Someone screams in a dramatic fashion, like a stupid sound effect from a movie. Kokichi chews his lip, sits back down on his hands—no, they’re not shaking, he’s fine—and kicks off his other shoe. This time it smacks the pavement, and to his surprise, it doesn’t bounce. If it does, it’s subtle, his eyes can’t pick it up.
He swallows. No, it’ll be fine, he tells himself. It’ll be over before—
“Kokichi!”
That voice startles him that he almost falls. He snatches the rail behind him to steady not only himself but his heartbeat as well. That was too close much too soon. Kokichi steals a glance at the sky. All he needs is fifteen minutes.
“Don’t… ignore me!” the man pants, taking a few unsteady steps forward.
Kokichi loosens his grip on the rail. “Wow, you sound like you ran up fifty flights of stairs to reach me! I must be reeeeal special to you now, huh Shuichi?”
“Do not… pull that shit…” Shuichi leans against the rail but does not climb over it to join him. He’s in his work uniform, that stupid detective getup. A nice button up, black dress pants, and a blue tie. Kokichi’s almost impressed that he’s missing work for this. “With me! What the hell… are you doing?!”
“Enjoying the view,” he sings. Despite his hand pointing toward the sunset, he’s watching Shuichi with interest. “Are you here for one last date before you grow bored of me, too?”
Shuichi keels over the rail and coughs with his eyes shut.
“Ah, looks like this cat still got your tongue.” Kokichi winks.
“Stop it,” Shuichi wheezes.
“Speak up, Shuichi.” Pointing to the crowd with his socked feet, Kokichi rocks forward a little. “They’re gonna want to hear what the big hero of the day has to say! I can see the headlines now. Sherlock Holmes Jr. Cracks The Code on his Boyfriend! Finally!”
“Kokichi—“
“Or will it be more tragic? Junior Detective gives ‘falling in love’ a new meaning!” Kokichi continues, making his voice as dramatic as possible. When Shuichi doesn’t respond, Kokichi looks back down at the crowd. “Falling in love… get it? Someone out there likes my pun.”
It’s silent again except for Shuichi catching his breath and the noises from below. The police officer from below must see Shuichi up there because his megaphone is away from his face, fallen down to his side.
“Ah, so they sent you up here to fetch me.” Kokichi offers an exaggerated sigh. There’s a small ping in his heart at this realization, but that doesn’t stop him. “As if someone as gross as you could control me.”
Shuichi’s eyes are still closed (he shuts up the voice in his head that’s screaming at him why). He coughs one last time, and he’s back to normal albeit the shake in his tone. “I didn’t come up here because someone told me to.”
“Really? I know my beloved loves being bossed around.”
“Please stop doing that. Can’t we talk?”
“Stop doing what?”
His knuckles turn stark white against the rail, and Kokichi has a strange vision of Shuichi being strong enough to actually bend the metal in his fist. Shuichi’s really super in his own nerdy way. Regardless of his motivation, it took a lot of courage for him to run up here.
But Shuichi’s scared. It’s written all over his face in how even in this gorgeous and brilliant orange lighting, Shuichi is paler than normal. He could feel Shuichi trembling against the rail.
Kokichi doesn’t regret his choice yet, but he begins to regret that this might crush the only person that ever showed him kindness.
“Okay, Shuichi. You can go home now,” Kokichi encourages. “You’re boring me.”
Muttering something that sounds a lot like a prayer, he blindly climbs over the safety rail. He keeps one hand gripped tightly on the rail, and he pats the ground with the other until he bumps Kokichi’s leg. Finally, he sits next to Kokichi.
“I-I’m not leaving until you come down.” Shuichi’s voice cracks in a way that cracks an itty bitty piece of his heart. “S-So…” He pats again until he scoops up Kokichi’s hand in his own. It’s so sweaty. “We’re talking. You hear me?”
The grip on his hand is painful, like Shuichi thinks Kokichi might go any second. He steals a glance at the sunset before turning back to the boy beside him. Maybe five to seven minutes until the sun is at that perfect angle beneath the horizon.
“Okay.” Kokichi sounds pitiful, and there’s a bitter taste in his mouth at the thought of entertaining this conversation. He hates it. “But you have to open your eyes.”
“C-Can’t…” Shuichi says, squeezing both Kokichi and the rail harder. “I’m—uh, well—scared of heights.”
“Then why are you up here?” pushes Kokichi. This conversation is going in circles.
“Is it really that hard to figure out?”
“You’re always unpredictable, Shumai! Lay it on me for transparency.”
Shuichi locks eyes with him, and for the first time, Kokichi gets to see what he’s done to this boy. His eyes are swollen and red, and based on the dried (and slightly crusty, ew) tracks down his cheeks, Shuichi’s been crying. A lot. And Kokichi caused it. This doesn’t feel good, hurting the only one he cares about.
And Shuichi, surprisingly, doesn’t take his bait.
“You’re stalling.” Shuichi frowns and attempts to make sense of Kokichi’s expression. “You know damn well I love you. I’m facing two—“ Two? “—of my biggest fears right now for you. You at least owe me the truth, Kokichi.”
“Do you know how much research I put into this?” Kokichi admits. It sounds ridiculous as it rolls off his tongue. “It’s possible to survive falls like this, ya know. Bent knees, land on your feet, and roll. You’d break all your bones, but hey! How many can say they survived a jump off a building? Change my title to Ultimate Daredevil.”
Shuichi looks exhausted, but he waits through Kokichi’s spiel like a champ. He doesn’t even flinch at his words anymore.
“Aw man. Lying used to be a lot more fun when you fell for it.” Kokichi sighs and puts on a smile. “Don’t you ever wish you could switch places with them?”
Shuichi blinks. “With…?”
“Kaito. Kaede. Hell, maybe even Korekiyo?” Kokichi shrugs. “They all had something going for them then pft. Danganronpa.”
“I mean… I miss them, yeah,” Shuichi admits. He’s still studying Kokichi’s face. “But if you’re asking me if I have survivor’s guilt… sometimes. I like to believe they’d want me to be happy. So I try to be for them.” Shuichi releases his hand to cup his face. “For you.”
“I see Miu and Gonta every night, Shuichi. You may be able to move on, but I can’t. Understand?” Kokichi removes Shuichi’s hand and places it in the other’s lap. “People don’t stare at you on the streets like some monster. I’m not justifying my actions, but people don’t pity those that set up a murder out of paranoia.”
“They don’t know you,” reasons Shuichi.
“They don’t want to know me,” corrects Kokichi. “Look at you. You’re successful, people like you. You made something of yourself. You even put your fake talent to good use. You’re helping people.”
Shuichi’s face turns red, but not out of embarrassment. Fire lit up those eyes. “You’ve helped people, too.”
“What have I done? Take up space in your apartment? That’s no way to live.” Kokichi swings his feet over the edge. More gather around the base of the building to watch. How sickening. There’s even a news van now. “You’re making a difference while I sit alone with my useless talent, my useless memories, and my useless life.”
“You help me.” His hand balls up a chunk of his dress pants, squeezing it like a stress ball. “You help me everyday.”
“You’re a terrible liar, Shumai. Always have been. You thought you were sneaky in those trials, but I always saw through you.”
“I’m not lying!”
Shuichi lets go of the rail, and Kokichi flings an arm in front of him when he leans forward. They’re much too close to the edge for Shuichi to be this reckless.
“Seeing you is the best part of my day,” Shuichi tells him. “You make me laugh, you make me feel better… you remind me it’s okay to be us. Because of your support and encouragement, I was able to put my talent to use. I’m stronger now because I have someone to come home to that listens to me at my worst and builds me up to who I’m capable of being. And I’m the worst boyfriend on the planet for not seeing how much you’re hurting.”
“I…” Kokichi’s not sure what to say. A rarity. How strange. “I’m not one to ask for help.”
Shuichi wraps an arm around Kokichi’s waist and pulls him close. “Please, I want to help you like you helped me. I know we can’t fix the pain, but I can keep you from shattering if you let me in. Just say the word.”
For the first time since he left the game, Kokichi cries in front of someone. He cries into Shuichi’s dress shirt, probably ruining it. He cries as he pictures Gonta, Miu, Kaito… those that didn’t make it. He cries at the thought of leaving Shuichi alone to deal with all of this.
When he calms down enough to speak, he whispers in Shuichi’s ear, “help.”
“Okay.” Shuichi holds him close enough where Kokichi feels his heart slamming against his chest.
As Shuichi helps him back over the rail, the sky erupts into a brilliant blue, but the only beauty Kokichi could see is the man Shuichi became and a promise of a future.