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Insomnia had been etching at her for weeks on end, giving her no peace along with the grieving's of sixteen unique students.
Her shoes etched into the grass of the school itself. The wind carried her hair over to the side, a wisp of air leaving her mouth and turning into a twisted fog to join with the rest of itself, unlike her.
What a thought to have, what a visual to imagine. If only it weren’t for her eyes, it’d remain an imagination.
She sighed and hugged her own arms together, and felt no warmth, a cold chill the only response.
“It is no use being out here…” With a small nyeh as she’d typically do, she shuffled onward to the dining hall, nipping at the warm foods ready-made by Kirumi like a small animal.
She sat in abysmal silence, but stared at the door. Like on lookout, she didn’t hear, but rather saw.
Glancing away for just a moment to take a sip of her hot cocoa the door opened wide in an instant. She peered her eyes and scooted to the side, wondering who was up at such an ungodly hour. She held her breath but stopped herself from sprinting off, grabbing a weapon to defend, the small consideration of someone struggling with the same anxiety and insomnia.
Leaning over from the door, seeing her view from noticing her shadow, that purple-haired, pain in the ass bastard; Kokichi Ouma stood adjacent to her.
“What're you doing up so early?” He spoke with a sick curiosity in his tone. He swung over to her, side to side, but she only froze. Ideas flooded her mind as her body took a pause, thinking of the scenarios. Instead, he only opened his mouth to speak. Not move his arm, and grab a knife… and such…
“It’s really bad for your health to be up so late… early. Whatever it is.” He leaned over and noticed her shivering, and with no words needed stepped back.
“You’re scared too. Great , you’re the perfect victim.” He groaned and sighed, looking away from her face as meanwhile she finally felt her body relax, and her mind come back to a relatively rational state.
“S-sorry…” She only apologized, stunned. She felt like an open book, already being read by the guy in front of her. The same guy who was obsessed with being the villain, and instigating, as well.
“You could end it with the shivering after saying sorry. Actions say more than words, y’know?” He strolled ahead toward the kitchen in an attempt to act nonchalant, but then noticed her food. He let himself fall back, and cartoonishly grabbed the plate off her placemat. Her reflexes wouldn’t allow her to get it fast enough, even if she tried her best and ended up in a desperate sweat. So she only watched him.
“Nyeh…” She mumbled, a sweat going down her face. She didn’t know why she was so nervous, with the fear shaking off her. He was just inspecting her food now.
“You could do better than this to satisfy your hunger, you’re aware, right?”
What a peculiar thing to say. Himiko thought, and replied.
“I’m not a good cook.”
He blinked at her pure honesty. Quickly he expressed his thoughts on that. He extended his arm and took her own.
“Let’s cook something better. With my help, you can create anything!”
Lifting her up, she stumbled along as if it was a cliche shoujo. She found herself barely able to balance with the way he walked, rocking side by side animatedly. A dumbfounded smile on his face, paired with the combo of his confident tone and gestures. It’d be so flattering, if it weren’t from such a midget and annoyance like him.
She stared back blankly, until the footsteps he took stopped. She pushed her feet into the ground to prevent them from jumping into each other.
“Woah, Himiko. I wasn’t going that fast!” He playfully waved his hand in front of her face but shifted his attention to the cupboards.
“Now let’s see where mom put the flour… and stuff.”
Himiko was going to speak, but decided not to. Not to argue with him either, and just agree. Tiredly, she went to a different cupboard adjacent from the one he was shuffling through. Reaching her arm out whilst crouching, grabbing a big bowl for the batter. Wait, what were they even making?
“Hey… Kokichi?”
“Yeah, Himiko?”
“What exactly are we making ?”
He paused and hummed after a momentary silence. “I’m not quite sure.” He put his finger up to his chin, and hummed louder.
“You’re giving me a headache already with that humming… ” Himiko muttered, turning back around to look for supplies; get ideas.
“I have the perfect idea for this big bowl you just brought out!”
He ran up and grabbed it with both his hands, shaking it around. “Pancakes?”
“Nyeh…” She blunk, unable to refute with something she much preferred.
“It’s better than what sad food you ate. Hot cocoa and noodles, really?”
In actuality, it wasn’t just because she was lazy. It’s not like he needed to know though, he’d use that info against her.
“Oh, stop looking lost and help me!” He yelled and shoved her to the kitchen counter. “ Stop being so rough… ” Mumbled underneath with an irritated undertone.
He broke an egg over the bowl, with Himiko quietly watching without much thought.
He continued to do the steps to make a pancake, rushing over and turning on the stove. She was realizing his slight talent in cooking, not asking for even a bit of help from her.
“When did you get so good?” She asked, observing him race over and pour the batter on the pan. He was concentrating hard, so he didn’t reply as fast as he usually would.
“I had to cook for a bunch of people… they were to be sent off to war…”
So melodramatic… the first part is believable, but only the first part.
“Nyeh, right .” She scratched her cheek.
The sound of the clock ticking, which Himiko was listening to before he arrived, became much more apparent. Kokichi wasn't bothering to annoy or poke her, and she wasn't doing much other than looking.
The batter was finished. He didn’t tell her it was “complete” until every part of it was used. A steam was still floating off the plate, and he was yet to get any toppings onto it
He tilted his head, scratched his temple, then spoke up. “You ready to eat this all, Himiko?”
“Nyeh… what?” She was dazed, all of the food, how?
“Oh, well there isn't enough to share with everyone. But we can’t let this go to waste!”
“But what about you…?” She questioned.
“I’m not hungry, so I’m okay!” He chuckled, then opened the cupboards up above. It was labeled ‘condiments and toppings’ conveniently. He was on his tip-toes, if that mattered.
“I wonder why this is the only labeled thing, but anyway… what do you want on it?”
“ Nyeh… I guess I like golden-...”
“Found it!”
He threw it directly at her face, not even a “think fast” coming from his mouth. In a tired hubble, Himiko couldn’t capture the bottle, landing on her face making a depressing plunk noise.
“Nyeh…” She sobbed, watching it fall to the ground with her eyes half shut. When she closed them briefly, she then saw the image of Kokichi grabbing it underneath her.
“ Perfect victim, as I said.” He sighed, and stared up.
“Well, hurry up to the table.”
He was groaning, and she was remembering thankfully she didn’t have to set the table up for herself. She did that before. She was so distracted, she didn’t notice the hour, or what to do.
He whipped out a seat in a flash for the two of them. The pancake's heat had turned into a warm, fuzzy feeling radiating from it. The best way to eat them.
Pulling a utensil from behind, he wagged a fork in her face. “Shall I do the honors?” He cut a piece out and held it.
“Nyeh?” She felt the piece he cut enter her mouth, a fluffy bake with the soft golden syrup clashing.
“Mm…”
“Yum, right ?” He beamed. So flirty, so flattering. So short.