Chapter Text
Cigarettes tasted like shit. It was a special brand of torture that he'd begun to put himself through after a few weeks spending too much time with Ryoma and Shuichi. They'd been a bad influence and he'd caught their coping mechanism a month after waking up. Better than Miu who'd dragged Korekiyo and Maki into their habit of hard drinking, not as good as Rantaro who smoked much better things than cigarettes. Better still was Kaito, Tenko, and Gonta who had taken up running with a zeal that was probably worse than all the previous methods but technically better in the long run.
Kokichi watched the sunrise as he blew smoke rings into the air. He was keeping his mind focused on the little things. The way the cold, early morning air bit at his skin, the slight burn as he took a drag on his cigarette, the way the smoke looked as he exhaled in front of the sunrise, the feel of the wood underneath his thighs. He'd been up for hours, surviving on coffee, micro naps, and the prolonged noise of everyone around him blissfully preventing him from sleeping. It was better than he had expected. Better than being at that stupid "hospital" run by Danganronpa.
When team Danganronpa told them they were getting kicked out after only two weeks, Kokichi had thought he was going to lose it. As much as he had hated being there, they had no memories and a pinata full of trauma waiting to be cracked out at the lightest tap, setting them all loose was probably the stupidest thing they could do. Kokichi had yelled, Kaito had punched one of the orderlies in the face, and Tenko flipped every nurse that approached them all for a full day regardless of gender. Rantaro was the one that saved the day, telling them all that his parents had offered their lake house to him while he recovered and he wanted to take them all with him.
Korekiyo had tried to decline until Miu got him drunk enough to have a breakdown and the rest of them had swept in with their headpats and kind words, while Angie had given him a sharp enough rebuke to make him feel like he wasn't getting away with literal murder. (Which, really, they all were in a way. Not just the blackened, but Shuichi for solving the crimes and sending his friends to their deaths, Maki and Ryoma for having the memories of doing so many murders, Him and Miu and Kaede for planning one, there were very few of them that could be called innocent here.) Himiko had to be dragged here, since she'd woken up with a renewed lack of vigor, knowing that everything had been for nothing. It was all kind of depressing really. He was kind of depressing. The only fun thing he'd really done since waking up was setting Tsumugi's shoes on fire before he left the facility. While she was wearing them. He hopes she ends up with a weird scar that reminds her of him and how shitty she is, but he knows that people like that don't feel guilt so there's point in trying.
He could hear the runners causing a ruckus down by the lake. Gripping the wooden railing of the deck and leaning forward, he could just about see them. It looked like one of them had tripped, but he was too far to see who. He saw the three of them running more often than not. They got up early and he stayed up late, so it was almost inevitable. Well, if staying up late was the same as not sleeping, at least. He thought it was. The noise they made kept him more grounded than staying in the quiet house while everyone was sleeping and smoking gave him an excuse to sit around doing nothing without too many people deciding to bother him.
"Here the fuck you are."
Seems he spoke too soon. He looked over his shoulder to see Miu, bleary eyed and messy haired, wearing a large t-shirt and shorts to sleep in as she stumbled out onto the deck. His lips curled up in a sardonic smirk. "Here I am."
"Why the fuck are you up so early?" she asked as she stumbled over to him.
"None of your business, cunt."
Miu smacked her hand against his face tiredly before dropping next to him and putting her head in his lap. "Stupid fucking asshole, making me look for you when I'm already goddamn tired."
By tired, she meant hung over. He'd seen her pass out around three in the morning with a bottle of vodka still in her hand and Himiko curled up on the table next to her. Himiko was a surprisingly energetic drunk, but only between three and five drinks, then it was just a bell curve.
Kokichi brushed her hair down with one hand. "No one told you to come looking for me."
"Shut up," she mumbled, pressing her face into his thighs. "Dreamed that your dumbass drowned in the lake."
Miu had been having dreams about his death since waking up. He supposed it was guilt even though she hadn't actually lived to see her plan come to fruition. Some nights not even passing out was enough to stop her feeling like shit and then she woke up and came crawling around him as if he could make her pathetic ass feel better when he couldn't even help himself.
"How'd I get in the lake?" he asked idly, keeping his eyes on the last lines of the sunrise. The sky was almost fully blue by this point and he always missed the pinks and purples of the early morning.
"You walked."
"Oh." Kokichi lowered the cigarette from his lips and rest his arm on the deck railing above his head. He supposed he couldn't blame her for that. He hadn't been much like himself since waking up, not that anyone really was.
Miu grabbed hold of his shirt and he could feel wetness slowly dripping onto his thighs. He pretended not to notice. Kokichi never knew what to do when Miu cried and now was no different. He just continued stroking her head in lieu of having anything else to offer her.
"I'm not going to walk into the lake," he told her. "Not my preferred method of death." He thought it was supposed to be comfort or a joke, but even Kokichi would admit that he wasn't really sure.
"That's what I'm afraid of," she told him. "You'll pick the worst fucking thing you can think of and I might not even find out."
Yeah, that sounded like him. He leaned his head against the railing and put out his cigarette on his thigh, quick and hard. He jerked at the burn but stayed silent, another bad habit he had picked up. He told himself that it was safer than putting it out against the deck and ignored that he might have done it for any other reason. He dropped the unlit cigarette beside him so that if it spontaneously relit itself, he'd be the first to burst into flames and he could push Miu away from him. She didn't deserve to die another stupid death.
"Not too many bad ways I could die out here," he told her. "Once you take out the lake."
"You'd find a way," she told him.
Nice that she thought so highly of him when it was too late to be helpful. Kokichi closed his eyes and tried to push that thought away. Miu was his friend or something, best not to have those kinds of thoughts cluttering him up. Best to think as little as possible, really, since thinking had only ever gone badly for him. Just keep his eyes closed, listen to the idiots down by the lake, and stroke Miu's hair until she stopped leaking on him. Small things. Easy things.
By the time Kokichi opened his eyes again, the sky was fully blue and the runners were opening the door behind him to go back into the house. Miu was asleep again and his hand ached for a cigarette.