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It wasn’t the first time Oma Kokichi had woken up with burning lungs and the feeling of a fractured skull in his mind- it surely wouldn’t be the last time either.
The issue at hand was now the frequency. Recurring vivid nightmares of his own death, looping in his head like a broken cassette tape. The film is jammed and stuck on the same scene, empathetic eyes staring as the cool metal descends and begins to smother out any remains of a person even being there.
It’s pathetic. The entirety of it is pathetic in itself. It hadn’t truly happened- not a single bit of it was real. Kokichi’s death was not real. His existence is a fleeting thought in the mind.
Does this stop the nightmares?
Of course not!
“Jesus fucking christ…” Kokichi groans, shoving the base of his palms into the seemingly glass-like holes in his head. Pressing hard until spots of white dot in his vision- sickeningly close to the ‘beautiful’ sight of a starlit night.
Nothing was working currently, no amount of turning and shuffling in bed soothed the humane itch for comfort. Flitting through the roster of people in his head, Kokichi’s mind was pulled back.. over and over and over and over again- to the same boy.
Someone who he had initially trusted, not that Shuichi had given him any real reason to distrust him- all his reactions were completely understandable. Kokichi was an awful person, thoroughly helpless to change, there was no fixing the damage done to his mind. Shuichi was right to say what he did while they were still in that ‘game’… but it hurt.
Kokichi felt nausea creep up his throat, the firm pounding in his forehead now traveling down to his neck, heating up the surface of skin. His body now unbearably sweaty and overheating. With a final ‘fuck you’ to Kokichi’s pride, he swung his feet off of his own bed, side-stepping any papers and clothes littered onto his floor.
After skillfully weaving through his self-made maze, Kokichi managed to stumble out of his own dorm room without another thought. Internalizing his own paranoia as he felt his feet move towards Shuichi’s dorm, on complete auto-pilot now.
Kokichi’s hands shook, his palms still clammy and shiny with cold-sweat. Knocking in a quick 1-4-2 pattern at Shuichi’s door, being sure to wipe his hands down onto his sleep shirt before inhaling deeply.
“Ouma..?”
Tilt your head, widen your eyes, and smile!
“Detective!” The commands worked through Kokichi’s body in shockingly smooth fashion, his eyes practically lighting up with the yellow bulbs from Shuichi’s dorm illuminating the outside world. “Just the man I wanted to see!”
Shuichi face turned up in a confused expression, the bridge of his nose crinkling up. Kokichi did his best to ignore the fidget in his arms that pleaded to touch and feel the pretty clear skin on Shuichi’s face.
“Do you know what time it is? Why are you up?” Shuichi questioned, his concern evident even without the tell-tale signs of his insistent picking and pinching at his own shirt and skin.
“Mind letting me in before you start interrogating? You detectives have no manners.” Kokichi smiles, being sure to tilt his head and let his bangs fall into his face. Something most people would call ‘ Charming’ . A fact he learned a long time ago.
Without another word, Shuichi stepped out of the doorway, raising his arm in a near beckoning motion. Dropping it almost immediately once Kokichi stepped inside, dangled at his side now awkwardly.
Shuichi’s dorm wasn’t much different from his own, aside from the mess, that fact wasn’t surprising at all. The Danganronpa team gave each student the same bedroom with the same sheets and same bedding and the exact same desk. Everything more like a shitty hotel than their own personal room. Shuichi’s room was the bare bones of what they were greeted with, only small signs of life scattered over the expanse of the room.
Kokichi’s eyes glazed over the similar-layout, letting himself half-appreciate the tidiness of it all, stray books strewn across different surfaces alongside empty mugs and pens. Shuichi stood still behind him, continuing to furl and unfurl his hands at the hem of his shirt, just watching.
Kokichi didn’t mind the attention, being sure to keep his hands folded behind his back as he approached Shuichi’s bed, the sheets slightly wrinkled.
“You keep this place pretty clean for a detective! I was expecting a cork-board and red string~” Kokichi teasingly jabbed, sitting on the edge of the gray bedding, swinging his legs out over the frame. “It’s all quite boring, though. What a shame.”
“Isn’t that more of your thing..? With the white board and- uhm.. all that..” Kokichi was half tempted to confess to trashing that poor thing.
The second they left that game, his room became a mocking reminder of his own failure. It would be entertaining to see Shuichi’s reaction to blind honesty. Watch as the wrinkles in his forehead worsen, each confession to the throwing and broken metal making his face become more and more scrunched up. There’s still ripped pictures and broken melamine still lying on his dorm room floor, destroyed in a desperate attempt at sanity. What would Shuichi even do if Kokichi did tell him?
“I guess so, huh!” Kokichi’s words were never questions, assertive and over-powering. He was always sure of it.
Based off Shuichi’s paper thinned pursed lips, his ‘laid back’ demeanor didn’t quite land how he wanted. A tension so thick Kokichi felt a bubble of paranoia rise in his throat, clogging his mouth shut with fear. Whether it was a fear of not being able to properly voice what’s bothering him or a fear of not being taken seriously if he did- Kokichi didn’t know.
“Why are you even here?” Shuichi’s tone was firm, more authoritative now with the carelessness of Kokichi’s attitude. “I don’t mind the company. It’s just not like you to want to see someone else this late… did something happen?”
Even now, after everything has ended, Shuichi’s still ready to play ‘ hero’ . It’s unnecessary.
“I wouldn’t be here in your room if someone was getting murdered again out there, if that’s what you’re asking.” Kokichi reveled in the paling Shuichi’s skin did, his blood practically dropping to the floor just from the mere mention of it. Everyone reacted so predictably now.
“That’s not what I’m asking about at all…” Shuichi swallowed hard, both audibly and visibly, anxiety beaded at his brow. “I just hope you know you can talk to me… to anyone- if you’re feeling.. y’know-?”
Kokichi smiled again, shaking his head as he continued to swing his legs childishly back and forth from Shuichi’s mattress. “I have no idea what you mean!”
Shuichi sighed, clearly growing frustrated with the dancing Kokichi found comfortability in, the shorter boy already feeling better with just the presence of another person he can dangle conversational superiority over. His headache has fizzled out, replaced by the velvety smooth voice coming from Shuichi’s mouth.
“If you’re having nightmares or just- struggling? I guess.” Shuichi kept his gaze downcast, his voice wobbling and teetering on insecurity. “Just come to me if you need it. Please…?”
Kokichi could feel his bottom lip wobble, disgustingly desperate to give in- his heart a Prince Rupert drop, a fragile glass tail being poked and prodded at. The smallest amount of damage to a soft spot causing the entire thing to rupture into fragments. Any second now Kokichi would shatter in front of Shuichi’s eyes.
“And say what? That I’m having trouble going beddy-bye cause’ a big scary metal machine pancaked me to death?” Kokichi meant for his words to come out sarcastic and dismissive, horrified to hear his own voice break towards the end.
Judging by Shuichi’s sudden widened eyes and slightly parted lips, he was just as surprised to hear it as well.
“I mean- yeah. If that’s how you want to put it, I guess.” Shuichi shrugged, sending Kokichi an empathetic smile. His shoulders no longer hiked up to his jaw, understanding and comfortable.
Kokichi couldn’t wrap his head around the idea of anyone being ‘comfortable’ around him, his personality alone scares off any unnecessary affectionate honesty. His body language consciously leaked confidence, his words demanded a crowd, his expressions and masks practiced to perfection- Kokichi was uncomfortability by definition.
“Do you want to spend the night here, then?” Shuichi tilted his head, his smile remaining, shaking Kokichi out of his own head as he stood before him. Kokichi appreciated the respectable distance between them, far enough to let him breath but close enough to lean on. “I’d like it if you did, Kokichi.”
The words sent a pang through Kokichi’s chest, his heart spluttering inside of him, his chest warming up quickly. Shuichi’s hands fidgeted slightly, his thumbs rubbing across the lower stitching at the bottom of his sleep shirt, tracing over each small line. Kokichi’s eyes dropped from their typical wide stare, allowing himself to drop his mask for only a second. Only for tonight.
“If you insist, then I guess so.” Kokichi shrugged, kicking his feet out into a swing and landing onto Shuichi’s bed back first, a loud WHUMPH coming from Shuichi’s comforter with the movement. His arms on either side of the bed, the back of his knees still hooked over the edge.
Shuichi’s eyebrows furrowed with pleased confusion, letting out a slight giggle at the absurdity of the entirety of Ouma’s dramatics, leaning over slightly to come into Kokichi’s view. Shuichi’s hair fanned out beautifully, his bangs swaying slightly as they moved away from his tanned cheeks.
Shuichi was pretty. Kokichi wasn’t stupid, just dumb enough to develop a crush on someone conventionally attractive. The boy had a nice lean figure, a model face with moles dotting over random areas of his skin, his eyes were sandy gray- his entire body looked like a calm rainy beach.
Shuichi’s hair reflected warm teals down to shallowy dark blue, his eyes always looked like gray clouds over a dim sun, his skin far too similar to wet sand on the shore- Kokichi always had a thing for bad weather. Finding serenity in the storm, Shuichi was exactly that. The prettiness in the unforgiving, being able to find beauty in something so horribly tragic it was almost ethereal to see him cry. Shuichi had always felt everything so intensely, growing attachments so quickly.
It was stupid how perfect Shuichi was in Kokichi’s eyes, he was handcrafted cryptonite for Kokichi alone. A soft spot.
“I can smell your hot breath from here. Go brush your teeth.” Kokichi grinned, turning over to clamber his way up to the head of the bed, taking extra time to kick and ruffle the remaining neatness in the sheets.
“I did brush my teeth! I..!” Shuichi blabbed, his cheeks blushed in embarrassment, a gorgeous dark red-ish orange. Kokichi committed the color to memory, saving it in his mental color pallette of Shuichi. Rainy beach with a sunset.
“Just kidding! You actually smell waaay too clean! I’m gagging on the fumes!” Kokichi grasped at his own throat, gagging and flailing in Shuichi’s bed. Only stopping once the boy had sighed and lifted a corner of the rumpled comforter to slide into bed himself.
“Sure you are.”
“How dare you! What if I was actually dying Shumai?! Have you no remorse for your fallen king!?!” Kokichi wailed, sitting up and batting his lashes until water pricked at the edges, Shuichi’s lips quirked up at the sides.
“Nope.”
Kokichi gawked, practically sobbing as he shook Shuichi’s shoulders in dramatics, slowly but surely slowing down the more Shuichi snickered. His face remained the same, even after Kokichi began patting his side, and even after he had laid down to rest with Kokichi crying wolf. Shuichi kept smiling.
A fact so small and meaningless, Kokichi couldn’t understand why he felt giddy at the realization. Shuichi never smiled this much around him in that ‘game’, always nervous or anxious, laughing along only when prompted to.
He seemed genuinely happy to have Kokichi here now.
“Are you done?” Kokichi blinked, shaken out of his thoughts with Shuichi staring up at him clearly biting back a yawn, his head resting on a pillow with a hand snug underneath.
Kokichi nodded, fighting back the wide grin that threatened to break across his face. Shuichi’s amused expression staring back up at him, their eyes locked together. Violet meets Gold.
“I guess so, you heartless monster.” Kokichi giggled, mirroring a yawn loudly with an intentional whine afterwards.
Shuichi chuckled again, batting his lashes slowly as Kokichi began to lie down in bed beside him, both their bodies turned towards each other. Shuichi’s breathing slow and even, his eyes darting across and up Ouma’s figure, inching back up to his face.
It was odd to see the typical shy detective so bold and holding eye contact . It was nerve wracking to watch the cogs turn in his head, Shuichi’s eyes saying what his mouth does not. Piercing golden gray, dark long lashes- gorgeously fanned out over his pupils. Shuichi’s eyes blown wide and cute, looking sleepily darker.
“I like when you stare at me.”
“You’re in luck, I like staring at you.” Shuichi laughs in response, letting his- objectively pretty- eyes flutter to a disappointing close. Kokichi raised an eyebrow at the words, choosing to keep quiet instead of annoying Shuichi further.
“Lucky me.”
Kokichi yawned again, turning so his back was now to Shuichi, curling up in a small ball in his bed. Shuichi’s words now buried deep into his brain, impossible to ignore as they echoed and bounced off the inner walls of his skull. Shuichi’s voice has always done that, filled Kokichi’s mind up to a point of no return. The slight firmness to it when he’s upset, the gentle calm when he’s attentive enough to see something’s wrong, his quiet tone when things become too much, his meek enjoyment- each one Kokichi learns about seemingly prettier than the last.
Shuichi was gorgeous through and through- everything about him was easily admirable, including his insecure humbleness. The sweaty palms, the averted gaze- Kokichi was disgustingly enamored by all of him. Shuichi was a pretty boy, do you blame him?
“Do you want to sleep or just… talk..?” Shuichi offered, a slight curve to his lips as he turned to lay on his back, chest rising and falling in a nearly mesmerizing calmness. How anyone was able to find peace near Kokichi Ouma- self proclaimed king of uncomfortable tensions- was a mystery.
Kokichi shrugged, inching backwards until his spine was pressed flush to Shuichi’s side, leeching off of Shuichi’s shocking lack of warmth. Clammy and cold to the touch, even the slight graze of Kokichi’s lower back to Shuichi’s hip made him feel drowsily stupid and relaxed.
Shuichi nodded, letting out a quick exhale before wiggling his arm under Kokichi’s head, letting the smaller boy squish his cheek against the limb. Kokichi’s back curved and snug against Shuichi’s side, tucked into the taller boy comfortably. His breathing slowed to match Shuichi’s, keeping mental pace with each inhale the other took.
“Can you talk?” Kokichi mumbled, rubbing his cheek into Shuichi’s inner elbow, smiling to himself when the arm beneath his head twitched in return. Shuichi’s fingers closing and opening in an almost animalistic manner.
“About what?” Kokichi can practically hear Shuichi’s mind reeling, curious and nervous.
“Anything, the world is your oyster.”
“Anything at all?” Kokichi grins, nodding sleepily as Shuichi questions further, taking a big breath in.
“Uhm.. well I guess I can just tell you what I see, is that alright?” Kokichi nods again, smiling in fluttery entertainment as Shuichi lets out a shaky exhale. “There’s lighting coming from under the door, it’s making this really pretty yellow streak across the ceiling.”
Kokichi wiggles himself back once again, resting his head on Shuichi’s bicep instead, his shoulders rolling back to be flush with Shuichi’s side. When did he get so slim-fit?
“The curtains near the window keep swishing, I uhm- I think I might have left the window open. The lamp’s still on too, I don’t know if you want me to turn that off yet. I can, if you want me to?”
“Go ahead, just keep talking, ‘kay?” Kokichi smiles, allowing himself the pleasantry of having Shuichi’s voice so close to his head, so soft spoken and meek it’s hard to make out certain syllables.
Shuichi’s arm strains with effort, having Kokichi still anchored against his other limb, but is able to click his desk lamp off eventually. The room shrouded in darkness almost immediately, dim and hued in cool tones from the dormitory lamps in the main corridor.
Kokichi whines against the shuffling, turning over uncomfortably and resting his head on Shuichi’s chest once the other has laid back down. Kokichi half expects the taller to pull away, or awkwardly adjust the sudden closeness in proximity.
Shuichi does neither, threading his hand through Kokichi’s hair and letting his eyes slip closed.
“I like how soft your hair is, it’s always fluffy and curly at the ends. I think it’s cute- it fits you.” Kokichi giggles, soft and much too genuine for his liking. Something deep in his soul fluttering with sincere enjoyment.
“I like yours too, dork.” Kokichi’s grin only worsens as Shuichi lets out a breathless laugh in return, Kokichi’s ear pressed right to his chest that vibrates softly along with the melodic sound.
“You sound tired, do you want me to keep talking?” Kokichi can’t find it in him to respond, humming out something close to ‘mhm’ as Shuichi cards his fingertips over Kokichi’s hairline, tucking a stray piece behind his ear. “Alright, I can do that. I can briefly make out the moonlight under my curtain now, it’s pretty outside. I always preferred the night more-“
Kokichi nods along, each shake of his head becoming lazier as Shuichi speaks. His voice weaving through Kokichi’s mind and pulling at the threads of his thoughts, untangling the mess of paranoia and anxiety that’s curled up in the deepest unnamed parts of Ouma’s head. Shuichi’s nails scratch lightly at his scalp, his chest rising and falling slowly- almost like an example for Kokichi to follow, calm and relaxing.
Before Kokichi can even properly wrap his head around the sickly sweet gesture, Shuichi tilts his head ever-so slightly to push his cheek against the crown of Kokichi’s head. That sugary sweet voice quieter and cuter than before, pulling Kokichi away from his spiraling and back into the safety of his arms. Sleeping never came easier.