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“Fuckin’ Danganronpa, ey?”
Kokichi finally looked at the person who had parked next to him. If not for the cigarette box in his hand and the lines dragging his face down, he might’ve thought the man was his age.
And if not for the suit and ornate eyepatch, he would’ve left by now. He still had his brain, though. So he hummed noncommittally.
The man fished out two cigarettes, holding one out to him, and scoffed when he took it. “You’re making a bad habit.”
“Smoked before the game,” he lied. He’d had one or two after he ran, just to see. And for situations like this. Not hacking his lungs out in front of a fucking yakuza would be ideal, he felt.
The lie didn’t seem to stick, but the man held out the lighter anyway. “Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu. Season 2.”
His eyebrows shot up. The guy didn’t look that old… maybe they ran through seasons really fast. Like that thought didn’t make him want to throw up.
Kuzuryu let another moment pass before he spoke again. “I won’t bullshit you. You’re not safe out here.”
He scoffed. “If you’re offering ‘protection’, I’m not interested. Just stab me now, buddy.”
“I’m serious.” He handed him yet another thing- a card, with an ornate symbol and an address on it, somewhere in the middle of Tokyo. “We find places for runaways. Hand this to the doorman and she’ll know what to do.”
Kokichi took a long drag before he shoved the head of his cigarette against the brick behind him and stuffed it in his pocket (litterers go to hell, that’s the thing he always said). “I’ll think about it,” he lied again, instead of starting a fight. As much as he wanted to.
That lie didn’t stick either, but he was alone in the alley again only a moment later, so it didn’t really matter. None of that conversation did. He'd been out on the streets for almost a month, dodging the press, split hats, classmates, and anyone else who wanted to take the time he had far too much of now. He didn't need charity, not from strangers and not from the yakuza. He was fine.
Kokichi fucking hated being proven wrong.
The harsh sound of his own breathing and the echo of his footsteps hurt worse than the bullet in his arm. He didn’t know where he was running, and he didn’t know where he was being chased from.
He’d barely processed the black and white hats and their guns before he was ripping through the frigid streets of Minato, ignoring the passers-by and their shrieks when they noticed the blood on his sleeve. They at least made a bit of a buffer, and wouldn’t get caught up in the chase. Probably. Maybe.
His legs were screaming at him, the world around him blurring into shapes and lights, when he remembered the card rotting in his back pocket. It was in Minato. He remembered that was in Minato.
He’d never been in Minato before.
Not like he hadn’t worked with less before. At least, that was true in his memories, but he could at least convince himself this wasn’t the worst experience he’d be shoving into his already turbulent head and tried to focus on the words on the paper.
The street was, because the world hated him, halfway back the other direction.
The simulation had given him memories of dark alleys being comforting, the perfect cover from anything that could be after him. In the present, he just felt like he was alone in a freezing dark alley. At least he knew where he was going now.
He also knew this was a horrible idea. Odds were high that they would chop him up and sell his parts to the highest bidder the moment he knocked on their door, but somehow, the image didn’t revolt him as much as being brought back to that stupid fucking hospital, or even just bleeding out in the street. At least it would do someone some kind of good, right?
There were still sirens blaring in the distance, and he could hear a fucking helicopter flying in- all this for little ol’ him? He was almost flattered- so he picked up his pace. Maybe if they wanted to catch him, they shouldn’t have trained him for scenarios exactly like this.
A drop on his foot caught his attention, and tracked it back up to his arm. The blood looked black in this lighting, and the pain of it was finally catching up to him.
It shouldn’t be bleeding that much, he thought, should it…?
He put pressure over the wound- fucking ow- and tried not to stumble over his own feet.
The address was, blessedly, only a few blocks away by that point, and he was standing like an idiot in front of the door of an innocuous office building. He had to acknowledge the yakuza had good instincts.
That thought kept his fist from connecting to the door. He was about to ask the fucking yakuza for a favor.
The door swung open before he could turn around, and he was being stared down by a tall woman with silver hair and a severe glare. It melted into surprised as she looked at him, and into shock as she looked at his arm.
Oh well. He was already here. “If you know a short guy with an eyepatch,” he panted out, holding up the card, “tell him to go fuck himself. And ask if he has any bandages?”
The woman snatched the card and opened the door further. “Inside. Quickly. You’re on TV.”
All this interest out of nowhere? He ignored the pang of fear that sent through him and followed her in. He wasn’t jumped and dismembered immediately, so it looked like he’d be fine after all. Probably.
One of the third floor offices had a door behind a bookcase, opening to a secondary stairway into the basement. Kokichi filed that idea away for later, ignored the fact he would probably never have any use for that, and descended.
He could hear arguing before the door was even opened, and definitely an ‘Ouma’ in there once or twice. Oh boy.
The severe lady unlocked the last door and shoved him through. “Mikan, bandages.”
The room turned to them, and a purple woman shrieked before dashing off. The rest were stunned into silence- and Kokichi realized the man sitting at the desk was familiar.
“Oh hey, are you actually, like, the boss yakuza? Bosskuza? Ohhh, is this your harem?”
Kuzuryu sputtered “Wha-“
“I’m flattered, but I’m not that into DILFs and I’m pretty sure I’m actually a baby, so-“
“Shut the fuck up!” he shouted, slamming his fists on his desk. “What is wrong with you?!”
Hah, he was fucking himself over here, but he really couldn’t help himself. Some people were just so easy to rile up. “Wait, am I supposed to answer that or shut up-“
“Stop, please, it’s too late for this,” a guy with the most obnoxiously pink hair he’d ever seen drawled. “Man, are you sure you wanted to pick this one up?”
That got the man a slap upside his head from the last and only normal looking person in the room. “Don’t be an ass! This was your idea!” She strolled right up into Kokichi’s space and stuck her hand out. “Ignore that idiot. The name’s Akane Owari! Nice to meetcha!”
He looked, with appropriate incredulity, between her and her hand. His right arm was kind of compromised right now. So he laid the back of his left hand against hers and shook it like that. “Well I hate meeting you. You’ve made my day way worse, actually.”
“Huuuuh?” Her face scrunched up, the grip on his hand becoming very uncomfortable, and reminding him suddenly that he was, in fact, in a yakuza den. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Kuzuryu groaned. “Don’t bother. He's lying. Remember?”
Her eyes widened, and the grip relaxed immediately. “Oooohh, you’re the, uh, what did Gundam call him?”
The pink one scratched his chin. “Oh god, he was the… ‘Clown Prince of Lies’, I think?”
“You have to call me that now,” Kokichi breathed out, “if you don’t call me that I’ll cry so fucking loud.”
“U-um…” he whipped his head around- he didn’t notice the purple woman come back in at all. She held bandages and a number of other medical implements in a bundle in her arms. “P-please don’t raise your voice, um, Kazuichi has a really bad headache…”
The pink one- he guessed that was Kazuichi- grunted at that.
“I should tell you… um, oh, I don’t usually need to introduce myself, this is… uh! I’m Mikan Tsumiki! Former Ultimate Nurse, b-but I went to college, a-and I promise I know actual medical practice!”
Wasn’t that reassuring. Kokichi measured the merit of saying that out loud- she seemed extremely nervous already, like if Shuichi was a chihuahua that had stumbled on a pile of cocaine. He’s a little scared of giving that dog- the real life woman he’s talking to- a heart attack if he looked at her funny.
The others were eyeing him warily now, besides- and he would really like to be on their good side for now, especially if it turns out this is someone that they give a shit about. And if not, hey, a good impression is a good impression, especially on the only person with the know how to poke around your wounds.
So he stuck his arm out and smiled widely. “Wow, a real nurse! I’ve only heard of those on TV!”
She made a small noise of confusion, but took his arm anyway and guided him to a seat by the desk.
Kokichi took a little cursory glance around to room on their way, mostly the taped over security camera and the little side door to their left. Not that the room itself wasn’t nice, housing a few shelves of nice pottery and other shit Korekiyo would probably geek out over. Not a very high priority right now, though. Maybe in his next life.
He plopped down ungracefully, jostling his arm more than a little in the process, leaving him to blink until the stars cleared out and he could hear again. Kuzuryu was talking by the time those sounds were legible too.
“…already know Akane, the pink louse next to you is Kazuichi Souda-“
“Hey…”
“-and the woman that brought you in is Peko Pekoyama.”
“Ohhh, Peko?” He leaned on the arm that wasn’t making everything ten times harder. “Yeah, we go way back, she…”
Kuzuryu’s face had taken on a certain… Kaito-like quality, Kokichi would say, specifically whenever he would start talking to Maki but before he’d actually said anything. It was a lot funnier on Kaito.
“…is, like, super cool with the whatever she does, huge fan,” he finished lamely.
“That’s what I thought,” he grumbled. “Whatever. Remember those names as much or as little as you want, kid. You don’t look like you’ll believe me, but I promise we want as much to do with you as you do with us. And how much that is is on you to figure out. I can tell you it won’t end well if you walk out with nothing but some stitches, though.”
“Th-this wound won’t actually need any stitches, and the torn muscles should be fine after a few weeks…” Kokichi looked over- she’d moved his sleeve and started wiping off the blood. Every movement made it hurt more. “B-but, you should definitely hear him out! And, and please stay still while I bandage you up!”
He blinked. “Are you not taking the bullet out?”
She somehow started to sweat even more. “I-I don’t have the tools for that here… and even if I did, taking it out might cause more damage than we’re equipped to handle… A-ah, unless you meant leaving the bullet in will make you upset?! I’m so sorry…!”
Jesus, this woman needed to get a backbone. “What? No, this is way cooler! Do I count as a cyborg now?”
“No.” Pekoyama finally spoke again. “And don’t get an MRI.”
“Yeah, you’ll die and then you’ll get hurt,” Owari added. “It’s like, super magnets and you’ll get flung into the stratosphere.”
Souda groaned even louder. “You’re doing this on purpose.”
Kokichi’s vision was swimming.
The room was considerably quieter than any city street, so it shouldn’t be this loud. And his arm definitely shouldn’t be hurting as much as it was.
Something was wrong- something had to be wrong. Mikan must have noticed something, there was no way she would miss it. But why wouldn’t she tell him? Was she trying to keep him calm? Or did she want him to stay ignorant-
He blinked. There was that game thinking. Again.
Facts served him pretty well in reality, so he latched onto the fact that he was pretty damn good at catching a liar. He was also good at telling when someone was honest, and Mikan didn’t seem like she knew how to lie, from how openly she wore her nerves. So, if she said he’d be alright, maybe that’s what she actually thought.
“Shut it! Both of you. This is actually fucking important.”
Kuzuryu, though, that was a man that knew what to show and what to hide. And what he showed, for as much as it looked to Kokichi like bluster, was pretty obviously a threat he could and would follow through on. Fake it ‘til you make it, they say.
“I was going to say, you’ve got options, and we’re giving them to you, take it or leave it.” He leaned back in his seat. “I’d love to say you’ve got time, but your face is plastered on every news channel right now, so if you want out of the country, we only have so much wiggle room.” The man sighed. “We can probably swing anything else a lot easier, though.”
Kokichi found it really, really funny how he was talking about their ‘offer.’ Yeah, because he loved being looked at like a charity case. They really thought he needed help.
And they were right, he did, and that was the literal entire problem here.
“You’re being a liiiittle hasty here, bosskuza. I actually wanted to turn myself in, yknow, but all the hospitals in the city were closed and I really needed the patch up.”
Kuzuryu, once again, didn’t take his bait. “Stop talking like a dumbass.”
“That’s because I wasn’t done, jerk.” He leaned forward, as best he could while his arm was still being manhandled. “You said you do this for all sorts of runaways, right? I could give a sweet little tip about all this to the cops when I get captured again, and where would that leave all of you?”
The temperature in the room dropped, and Kuzuryu’s expression hardened. “How about you keep your mouth shut about us, and we don’t blow your fucking brains out?”
“See, THAT’S what I’m talking about!” Kokichi laughed, cracking a classic grin. Things were finally feeling familiar. “Now you’re speaking my language. Cut the chit chat, what do you actually want?”
Akane was snarling. “He's been telling you what we want the whole time!”
“Oh, fuck off. You don’t take in fugitive teenagers and ship them away from the cops out of the goodness of your bleeding goddamn hearts. Who are you selling me to? Can it be someone really rich? I have very expensive tastes.”
“We’re not fucking selling you!”
“And why is your first priority their money?”
“Not now, Souda!”
He giggled. This… this was a huge fucking mistake. He really should’ve bled out in the street.
He stood up, ignoring Mikan’s protesting squeak. “Yeah, I was actually kinda lying there, cuz I’m not really looking to get human trafficked just yet, so I’m gonna head out-“
“W-w-wait, please,” Mikan squealed, “no one’s going to hurt you, please let me finish your bandages-“
“Sit the fuck down!” Kuzuryu screamed. “What part of any of this looks like human trafficking?!”
“Get serious.” He was panicking. The breath wasn’t staying in his chest, so he was laughing it out between his words. “What part doesn’t look like trafficking?” Even to his own ears, though, it was obvious he’d lost his touch, and he sounded insane, but not the way he wanted. “I should probably report this place to the cops even if you’re not selling me off, like the good little citizen I clearly am.” He sounded winded. “But I'm a sensible citizen, you know, so if you wanted to offer me something to sweeten this deal…” He sounded like a cornered little rabbit ruffling its fur to look even a little bigger in the ridiculous hope that the wolf won’t strike-
The side door swung open.
“I’m back!”
Kokichi’s brain ground to a halt.
“There you are. Could you tell your friend we’re not fucking with him?”
What the fuck.
“Friend? Who-“
She froze as she took the scene in, staring at Kokichi like a deer in the headlights.
Kaede stammered out, “Y-you…”
He bolted out the door.
Tonight was a mistake. He shouldn’t have come here. He never, ever, ever should have come here. Every step in his life from the moment he woke up was a cascading symphony of failure culminating in the most pathetic display of idiocy he could have possibly imagined.
“Wait!”
Asking the yakuza for a favor. What was he, five? Had he forgotten everything he’d ever learned? How stupid did he have to be?!
“Ouma, stop!”
Maybe fate really was real, if it was what led him to this juncture. Real enough to spit in his face and laugh the whole time.
God, he really was at the end of his rope if he was blaming the fucking writers.
“Kokichi!”
Something grabbed his arm. It hurt.
He swung wildly, managing to clock Kaede’s nose hard enough to hear a loud crack.
He didn’t even process what he did before she swung back far harder, nailing his cheek hard enough to leave stars in his vision.
Instinct took over. He barreled into her, driving his elbow into her collarbone. She didn’t go down, and her knee drove into his gut like a missile.
His fist swung up, and he punched her again, and again, and then her hand swung into his throat and he gagged. She grabbed his collar, but he kicked hard, managing to nail her right under her ribs, and she gasped and went down.
The growing dizziness dragged him down right next to her.
Slowly, the adrenaline wore out of his body, leaving him gasping and nauseated and in so much pain. Kaede’s breaths next to him were ragged and nasal. From the corner of his eye, he could see blood dribbling from her nose and lower lip- the rest of his eye was swelling shut.
They laid there, staring at the slice of sky they could see from there, for a terrible moment, not able to form words quite yet.
Kokichi coughed. “So, what… wh-what’s up?”
Kaede was silent for a beat before she started giggling, a small noise that grew into a full-throated laugh. Kokichi couldn’t help himself from joining in, the panic in his chest bubbling into something manic, their cacophony echoing off the walls into a hyena-like mess. It hurt his stomach, but he didn’t care.
“Is this usually-“ Kaede wheezed, “-usually how you greet… greet people?”
“Hey, you started it!”
“No I did not!”
“You’re scary, so it’s your fault!”
“Well you-you’re an asshole!”
“AND SO ARE Y-“ He trailed off into harsh coughs before he could fake a wail. Ugh.
Another quiet moment passed.
“We should… get back before they freak out,” Kaede started. “Mikan… oh god, she’s going to be so upset…”
Oh hell no. “You have fun with that. I’ve got places to be.”
She looked at him askance. “Do you actually?”
“What, you think I can’t make it on my own? Fucking watch me.”
He sat up, and immediately rolled over to vomit.
Kokichi knew when to admit he had a bad idea, and that was yet another one of them. He could hardly keep himself upright on one arm, the other one excruciating to the point of tears (on a normal person) and probably already bloody through his half finished bandages. He’d have to do some real self-reflection when his stomach was done wringing itself out.
When it was all finally out of his system , he registered a hand on his upper back. Kaede was frowning lightly when he turned to her. “I’m really sorry for hurting you. And for scaring you.”
Strong assumption (and entirely right). He straightened with a weird grunt that he would be breezing right past. “And I’m,” He reached out and set her nose right, “not sorry at all.”
She yelped and jumped back. “Agh- why didn’t you tell me you were going to do that?!”
“Uh, it would’ve hurt worse if I let you brace for it? I’ve only ever done you favors and you’re being really unappreciative, Kaede.”
“That’s not true at all! And why would you even set it if you weren’t sorry?!”
“Your face was bugging me, but it’s wayyy better now!” He actually did a really bad job, and it was really bugging him. “Aaaaanyway, catching up was real fun, but I think I’m gonna get out of your hair now.”
“Wha-“
He stood and almost tipped right back over, but managed to stay upright, and that’s what mattered. “I mean, I’d love to stay and ruin your night, but I’ve got places to be, so have fun-“
“Wait!” She shot to her feet. “I don’t want you to leave! I’m- I’m actually really happy you’re here, Kokichi.”
See, this is what he meant when he said she ‘wasn’t boring.’ That she could say that with a straight face, not even a hint of exaggeration under the blood pooling on her chin… she actually caught him off guard. He had to give her points for that. And take them away immediately, because that was one of the stupidest things he’d ever heard.
He gestured, expressionless, towards her face, and towards the pile of sick they were less than a few feet away from.
She winced. “I-I’m serious! And I’m really sorry about hurting you, and I mean it!”
“Uhuh,” he said, “You really looked like you wanted me to stick around when you broke my neck.”
“You’d be dead if it was broken!”
“…touché.” Not necessarily true, but he wouldn’t be walking or talking either, so. C’est la vie. And other French-isms.
“I really am glad you’re here though, since…” Something- some expression he really hated- moved over her face before she sighed. “Honestly, Kokichi? You scare me.”
His heart jostled at that- he’d call the emotion pride. He grinned wide. “I’d be shocked if I didn’t! Supreme leader of evil, and all? At least you have some sense.”
“I didn’t mean you were scary, I meant you scare me.”
It jostled again. Not pride, then. “What’s the difference?” He asked, knowing exactly what she meant. What an asshole.
“…nevermind. It’s just… I was worried about you, after everything, and everyone’s reactions, so I’m glad that you’re… in one piece.”
He leaned toward her. “You were gonna say ‘not hurt’, weren’t you?”
“You can’t prove that.”
“You toooootally were.”
“Shut up,” she mumbled, with a small smile.
He liked that expression- it meant he had control of the conversation again.
“Seriously, though.” Okay, fucking never mind. “After you left, I couldn’t stop wondering… well, everything. I wanted to hear it from the horse’s mouth-“
“Ha.”
“-shush. I wanted to get it from you.”
“And why would I tell you? That’s like, suuuuuuuper private.”
“Then I won’t ask.”
This girl. Honestly. He tiled his head. “Haven’t you already technically asked, though? When people say they’re going to ask you something, they’re asking it, right?”
“Y-yeah, but- no! I’m trying to say that I’m willing to hear your side but I don’t want to pry!”
Hm.
Someone could’ve learned a lot more from her if they’d had the time.
“That’s weird,” he said instead. “Aren’t you curious, though?”
“Yeah, but… you don’t really want to talk about the game, do you?”
He bristled a bit at how… matter of fact that was. “Are you joking? That was my bread and butter! I could rattle off every little thing that happened after you got yourself killed right here, right now. Can I?”
She glared right back. “Is that why you ran away as soon as you woke up?”
Damn. He hated when the other person was right. “Is that what they told you? I actually got kidnapped into Angie’s weird cult and shipped to a boat in the middle of the Pacific. I only just escaped, actually, I had to kill them all and take control of the boat, crazy stuff.”
Kaede looked like she had to physically hold back a comment about all of that- her face went all red, it was kinda funny. “Sure,” she forced out. “But you get what I’m saying. Your best bet is taking the help, Kokichi.”
“My ‘best bet?’” He scoffed. “You don’t actually think I need handouts, do you? I’ve got no use for shot put balls, or whatever else you could give me. Besides, I’ve got wayyyy better options.”
The jab seemed to work, her expression falling with a quiet gasp, but it was only a moment before she shook her head. “Dad doesn’t give those cards to people with better options.”
His mind, once again, ground to a halt. “What.”
“…Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu. He’s my dad. Peko’s my mom. The Akamatsu cover thing?” Her brow furrowed. “I thought you knew.”
“How the fuck would I know that.”
“The others found out!” She yelled. “Doesn’t word travel these days?”
So it went back to him not having a phone. Cool, cool. “I’m joking, Kaede. Of course I knew about your dirty mob past. That’s the entire reason I came here, actually.” He flung his arms behind his head, ignoring the stabbing pang from his right one as best he could. “I can’t have other wannabe criminals elbowing in on my empire! And that means you too, so pack your bags for Siberia, buddy.”
Kaede stared at him, her face yet again morphing into an expression he hated. That was the wrong thing to say, then. The smile stayed on his face, but he quickly added, “Oh yeah, you wouldn’t know. I actually got super into DICE’s characters after the game ended, so I’m remaking it in real life-”
“Please… just stop,” she said. Her tone was utterly defeated. “Don’t play these games with me.”
“I’ll do what I want.” He lowered his arms nonetheless. “But that was getting boring anyway. Guess you’re lucky, Kaede.”
If he were another man, he’d thank her for giving him an out. If he were a better man, he’d apologize, for his behavior, for standing in front of her right now, everything. If he were Shuichi, he’d tell himself this is why he doesn’t have any friends, and he’d be right. Unfortunately, he was Kokichi, so he took a step back and tilted his head. “So, were you gonna drag the captive back to your den before everyone freaks out, or…?”
She gasped. “That’s right! Ah, not- not the captive part, but we have to get back!” She held her hand out. “Are you coming or not?”
He stared at her hand for a beat. Would it be ironic if he took it? Or a betrayal, maybe?
…eh. Why the hell not. He wanted a bed tonight.
He was yanked as soon as he took it, once again pounding down dark alleys on his increasingly unsteady legs. Once again he was torn through the freezing cold air with no idea where he was going.
But her hand was warm. So it was fine.