Chapter Text
Everything was not okay. In all honesty, Saihara considered killing himself in the bathroom stall he was hiding in. It would be pretty easy... Messy, though. And Akamatsu wasn't all that good around blood, so it wouldn't be fair to her. Momota had been standing on the other side of the door for the past ten minutes, too. Saihara knew he was there, and Momota knew that Saihara knew that he was there. Still, each time he knocked or called out, Saihara ignored him.
"Bro, come on, man the hell up!" Momota yelled at him. Saihara simply tucked his knees up tighter against his chest, perched on top of the closed toilet lid. "Ugh- Just get your ass out here, dude! I don't understand why you're so scared of Akamatsu!"
"I'm not scared of her..." Saihara mumbled.
"What?"
"I-I'm not scared of her, Kaito!" he argued, "You... You make me sound like a child."
"Yeah, well, you're acting like one!" Momota huffed and threw his weight back against the door of Saihara's stall. Saihara could tell what he'd done by how much the walls shook. "Listen to me, Saihara Shuuichi. I can assure you, that Akamatsu does not give a single fuck about something dumb that you said or did when you were seventeen-years-old. Alright?"
"But-"
"Nope! You have to stop doubting yourself so much!"
Saihara dropped his head into his hands, raking his nails anxiously over his scalp through his navy blue hair.
"Come on, Shuuichi. Just come out here, and have at least one drink with us. Then, if you still want to leave, I promise I'll take you home. Okay?"
"Kaito..."
"For me?"
Saihara chewed the nail of his thumb, knees bouncing with an energy that simply needed to be released before Saihara exploded.
"...okay. I'll try..." Begrudgingly, Saihara unlocked the bathroom stall and stepped out on shakey legs. He didn't look up at Kaito. He just let the taller man clap him on the shoulder, then followed him back out to their table. Kaito threw himself down in the plush seat, swinging his arm around Harukawa's shoulders. She blushed and stiffened a little, always so hypersensitive to everything around her. Saihara sat himself in the remaining seat beside Akamatsu, and accepted the cola that she pushed towards him with a soft smile. It made him weirdly happy that she remembered he didn't drink.
"Everything okay?" she asked.
"Um- Y-Yeah. Sorry," Saihara muttered and hid behind his glass, taking a sip. Okay, Shuuichi, you can do this! For Kaito!
"Good! So, Saihara-kun, what have you been up to since university?" Akamatsu asked. Thank God she started the conversation, because Saihara would have had no idea how.
"Ah- Well, I work as a detective now," he said, "I-I solved a case last year as my uncle's apprentice, then they just sort of... gave me a job there. I guess?" Saihara swirled the liquid around his glass.
"Ooh, your dream job, right!?" Akamatsu beamed, proud. Of course she remembered.
"Um- Y-Yeah, I guess," Saihara agreed with a small smile. "So... Uh- How have you been? Since... Y'know. You're still a musician, right?"
"Oh, I've been great! I told you about that gig, right?" Saihara nodded. "Yeah! There's been loads of stuff like that! Oh- and I got a girlfriend too!"
"Ah- Congrats!" Saihara smiled warmly.
"Can't say the same, though, can you?" Akamatsu teased, prodding at his shoulder. Saihara flinched slightly.
"Ha!" Momota barked loudly before he could even say anything, "Shuuichi? Getting a girlfriend? Not a chance!" Saihara shot him a look. "Sorry, bro, but I mean- Look at you. You're too shy, and chicks just don't dig that! Plus, you're way too into your work, like, all the time. I bet even right now you're still thinking about that Phantom kid." Saihara bit his lip. Momota was right; well, about the very first and last parts at least.
"It's an important case, Kaito," he defended, "I need to be thinking about it so I can solve it. My love life... has n-nothing to do with it!"
"What's this about?" Akamatsu questioned. Harukawa seemed to perk up too, suddenly interested in what Saihara was saying for the first time since she'd met him.
"Uh- Well, i-it's nothing, really," Saihara stammered, despising the attention on himself. "It's just- just a case that I'm working on--- a confidential case, I might add." Momota mumbled an apology. "But, uh, anyway, it's... irrelevant...." He trailed off as something across the room caught his eye. A bounce of purple curls. It couldn't be... right? They were sitting with two other people; a guy (?) with curly, long-ish white hair - not Iidabashi Tetsuya, Saihara noted - as well as a young blonde that Saihara didn't recognize. It was irritating how only his target was facing away from him, Saihara thought with a frown, but this was... Saihara just had to memorize those faces, then check his files. If the purple-haired person was who he thought it was, then those other two had to appear somewhere, right?
"She's pretty, huh?" Akamatsu's voice suddenly came right next to his ear.
Saihara yelped and jumped away from her, nearly falling out of his chair, and she laughed. He glared at her, but the commotion seemed to catch the attention of the other group. Saihara looked over at them, and for a split second, managed to catch the purple-haired person just turning away again. Dammit! If only Saihara had looked a second earlier... The other group went back to whatever they were originally doing, not caring about Saihara anymore. Saihara sighed and dropped his head onto the table.
Akamatsu giggled, "Sorry, Saihara-kun! I forgot you were so jumpy." She patted him comfortingly on the back. "You were looking at that hot blonde chick, right? I could totally help you talk to her-"
"-NO!" Saihara quickly cut her off, shooting up in his seat. Then, he flushed with embarrassment, "I- Uh- I mean, n-no thank you, Akamatsu-san." It wasn't her that he'd been looking at.
"Oh! My bad, I thought you were checking her out," Akamatsu laughed a little. "You were super distracted! It's like, you couldn't even hear me for almost five minutes!"
Was it really that long? Saihara stole a glance towards the other table again, only to see that the purple-haired person was gone. Shit. Where did they go? The white-haired guy and the blonde were still there, the guy laughing at something the woman was saying, but where did that other person go...? Saihara studied the table as well as he could from this distance, trying to find some sort of clue... Ah, bingo. Poking out of the bag under the table was an open cigarette box. Saihara quickly stood, then paused to think of an excuse for leaving.
"Everything alright, Shuuichi?" Momota asked him.
"Uh- Yeah, just gonna... get some air," Saihara muttered, and before anyone could question him further, he sped away from the table and out of the bar. He wandered around to the back, where he knew was most likely to be the popular smoking area. He was right. There were only a few people there; a red-haired woman who looked like a tired mother of three, an older looking man, and... It took every part of Saihara not completely freak out when he saw them.
"I knew you'd follow me~" came a voice. Saihara snapped back to reality and realized he'd been staring. He probably looked like such a creep....
"Um- Sorry..." he smiled nervously. Normally, Saihara hated smoking, but watching the way the smoke curled from their rosey lips, the cigarette dangling from their slim, pale fingers... Saihara was entranced. "S-Sorry for... staring, too..."
"It's okay," the person smiled, "I don't mind. I think it's an honor that someone as pretty as you would be so interested in someone like me." Their voice didn't quite match up in Saihara's head, nor did the way they spoke. Was this... not who he thought it was? There's no way it could be. Saihara was an idiot. It was way too much of a coincidence. Still, even if was someone completely different... Saihara couldn't argue that he wasn't still interested in who this person was.
He flushed a deep red at the other's forwardness, and he hid behind his hat. "Ah- I, uh..." The mysterious person giggled softly and tilted their head, moving slightly closer to Saihara. Their height difference was almost comical in the sense that they were at least half a foot shorter than Saihara, yet they made him feel so small.
"Sorry, is this okay?" they asked, peering up at Saihara through long lashes with soft, violet eyes. With the way they looked at him, Saihara wanted to tell them that anything was okay. They could do whatever the fuck they wanted to him, no limits.
.....had someone spiked his drink? He didn't feel anything bad, but those thoughts were... very out of character. Which is also why he wasn't exactly sure why he pursued them.
Y-Yeah, it's fine..." he smiled nervously. "You're, uh- I think you're pretty t-too..."
"Hm?" Saihara watched them take a drag from their cigarette. The old man and the woman were gone now, probably irritated by their behaviour. Saihara was alone with this... person. They were confusing him, though. Saihara was absolutely, let's say, interested. Only, this person looked, dressed, and sounded mostly like a woman. Saihara had only recently come to terms with his supposed male-centred attraction, but this...
"You're trying to figure me out, aren't you?" they smirked.
"Ah- S-Sorry!" Saihara stammered, averting his eyes.
"It's okay, I get that a lot." They dropped their cigarette, stamping it into the ground. Then, they hopped up to sit on the short wall behind them, their face now an almost-level height with Saihara's. Their pale legs swung rhythmically in the air. "I'm whatever you want me to be, really," they said. "Buuuut I have a dick, if that's what you're after!"
"Ah-!" Saihara blushed. It did not help whatsoever for him to know that.
"Oh... And you can call me Chi, if you like," they smiled.
"Chi-san..." Saihara tested out. Was that a real name? Either way, it sounded nice on his tongue. "Y-You have a very pretty name... but I'm confused, what do you want..?"
"Mhmm, do you have a pretty name, too?" Chi ignored his question as they trailed slim fingers along the lapel of Saihara's coat, before suddenly gripping it and gently pulling him forward. There were barely a few inches between the two of them now, and Saihara could smell the tobacco on Chi's breath. Tobacco and... something fruity. He wasn't sure.
Saihara weighed his options. "Uh- My name... My name is Kagehara," he decided on. He could do fake names too.
"Kagechan...!" Pale fingers slipped beneath the fabric of Saihara's coat, and he did nothing to stop them. "You are rather dark and mysterious, aren't you?"
Saihara didn't know how to respond. The name was pretty stupid, sure. It was a name he gave to a villain persona character that he'd made when he was fourteen. However, he wasn't thinking straight, and it was the first thing that came to his head on the spot.
"You think a lot, Kagechan," Chi mused, tapping a finger lightly to Saihara's temple. "You're quiet, but I can tell that there are a million things running through that head of yours at this very moment. A million things that you're considering saying, or even doing." Saihara eyed them curiously. "Tell me," they continued, "of all those these you're considering..." Chi's hands slid to Saihara's waist, pulling him closer. "What have you thought about doing with me?"
Saihara froze completely. He didn't know this person. They were a stranger. He shouldn't be doing this. He was a terrible person- Chi cut off his thoughts by leaning up to press their lips against Saihara's. What the hell...?? Chi's lips were almost as soft as they looked, though Saihara could feel that they were bitten and abused. The taste of the cigarettes on Saihara's tongue now made his stomach churn. He felt Chi wrap their legs around him, pulling him even closer to deepen the kiss. Their hands moved to where Saihara's were, resting on top of them. They took one of Saihara's hands and guided it to the small of their back, then let go. However, with his other hand, they moved down their thigh and teased the hem of their skirt. Saihara finally gathered the courage to pull away.
Chi looked up at him with an unreadable expression. "What's wrong ?" they asked.
The sudden realization came to Saihara that, if he was gone too long, Momota might come looking for him. Or even Akamatsu... He wasn't sure which was worse, but he certainly didn't want either. He was frightened, a little, by the advances Chi was making all of a sudden.
"I.. I don't want to do this with you," he managed to muster. "Sorry, but... I don't know you..?"
"You don't? Really??"
"--Uh- Shuuichi?" Fuck. Startled, Saihara instantly pulled back from Chi, stumbling a little as he did so. Chi looked a little disappointed, and glared at their interruption. Then, before he could stop them, they hopped down from the wall, readjusted their clothing, and left. Saihara gazed after them helplessly, but made no move to stop them. Face flushed and breathing heavily, he knew he looked a hot mess.
"Um..." Saihara couldn't bring himself to look at Momota. He stared at his feet. He was deeply embarrassed, and he'd never seen his friend act so awkward. Where do they go from here? Would Saihara ever be able to live this down??
"So, uh- Who... Who was that?" Momota asked, trying to break the awkwardness. When Saihara didn't respond, he sighed. "I'm sorry, Shuuichi, I... I was looking for you, and I- I was just surprised, is all," he said. "I didn't mean to ruin... whatever that was." This was it.
Saihara was definitely going to kill himself later. ...He had to stop making those jokes.
"It's... It's fine, Kaito." He shifted his weight awkwardly, kicking at the stones on the ground, because holy fuck this was horrible. His heart pounded, and tears threatened to spill. He was stupid. He was gross. Momota thought he was a freak. Chi hated him, and he'd never see them again. "I think... I think I'm gonna go home," Saihara decided quietly.
"Do you... want me to drive you?" Momota offered, but Saihara shook his head.
"No, I-I'll walk," he said. "I need to... think. Have a good night, Kaito."
"Yeah. See you later."
Saihara stuffed his hands into his pockets and speed-walked away as quickly as he could. 'Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck-' He repeated this mantra under his breath for at least half the journey home. Okay. Okay, Shuuichi. Get your head straight. What had he had to drink? Barely a whole glass of cola. What had happened tonight? He made a fool out of himself in front of his childhood best friend, his best friend's girlfriend, and his own ex, then made out with some stranger who looked like a criminal he was supposed to be chasing. How was he going to deal with it? He was going to lock himself in his room and hate himself forever.
•
When Saihara got back to his apartment, he changed into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, and crawled into his bed. He didn't bother with taking his makeup off, or really anything else that he probably should have been doing. No, now Saihara was sulking. He had his chance to fix things with Akamatsu, but what did he do? He got distracted. By his work. Again. Momota was right. He could never focus on anything other than whatever case he was working on at that moment. Who would want to get close to someone who's barely even there mentally? He was a mess. He reached for the headphones on the end table and put them on, grabbing his phone to shuffle his playlist, then curled up under the blanket. Returning to old habits, Saihara chewed the ear of his old bear stuffie as the familiar, comforting sound of his playlist filled his ears. Yep, this was it. He was going to stay here, just like this, until eventually he died.
Well, he would have done, if Momota hadn't come home almost two hours later and knocked on Saihara's door, then drunkenly stumbled in anyway without even waiting for a response. He'd coughed awkwardly to announce himself then and collapsed into Saihara's desk chair, spinning it to face him in the bed. Saihara groaned and buried his head under the blankets.
"Hey, Shuuichi, come on, bro!" Momota complained loudly. "At least take the headphones off so you can hear me, yeah? I just wanna talk," he said.
Saihara sighed, then paused his music and removed the headphones. He put them back up on the end table so Momota could see that they were gone.
"Okay..." Momota made a clicking noise with his tongue, quiet for a moment, then he began, "Sorry, just a forewarning, I am... pre-tty drunk." He laughed. "So, my bad if what I say doesn't make sense, y'know?" Saihara didn't say anything, but he understood. "Alright... Well, I wanted to start by apologizing, I guess. I pushed you into going out tonight, and I pushed you into inviting Akamatsu, and uh-" Momota frowned, "I... still feel bad about that, too. It was awkward as hell. So... Sorry for ruining your chances, I think?"
"...it was a mistake anyway," Saihara mumbled, "I'm glad you stopped it."
"Shuuichi..."
"It's not your fault, Kaito. None of this is." Saihara squeezed his bear stuffie and played with the matted fur between his fingers. "I'm... a mess. I screw things up. That's just how I am."
Momota sighed. "Jeez..." he muttered, then, at a louder volume, added, "No, Shuuichi, you're not. You're fine."
"But-"
"Shut the hell up right now."
That told Saihara. He curled up more into himself, willing his mind to stop screaming at him for just one second.
"Look, we can't really have this conversation right now, alright? I'm not gonna remember half this shit in the morning," Momota forced out a low chuckle. "I just... wanted to see how you were doing."
He wanted to make sure you hadn't hurt yourself again. "...yeah," Saihara mumbled.
"So, who was the chick then?" The full 180 that the conversation took would've been amusing to Saihara, had he wanted to talk about this with Momota at all. Although, at least Momota mistaking Chi for a girl worked in his favor.
"...Her name was Chi-san," he muttered quietly. Chi had said they didn't mind being any gender... right? So he didn't feel as bad pretending they were a girl for Momota.
"Hm?"
"Chi-san," Saihara repeated. "She's no one, just... caught my eye. I was... drunk."
"You didn't drink!" Momota argued with a roll of his eyes. "Shuuichi, those weren't drunk actions. You were soberly confident enough to pursue someone you were interested in! I'm proud of you!"
"You shouldn't be..."
"Well, I am." Momota stifled a cough, then stood up. "I'm gonna go head to bed now, alright?" He dug into his jacket pocket for the bottles, picked out the small collection of pills, and placed them on Saihara's end table next to a glass of water. "Don't forget to take those, and maybe get that makeup off too. It'll smudge on your pillows, and it'll be bad for your skin. Do you need help with anything?" Momota was like the mother that Saihara should have had.
"...n-no. Thank you, Kaito," Saihara whispered.
"Any time, bro," the man chuckled and patted Saihara's shoulder. "I love you, remember?"
"Yeah... Yeah, I know." Then, Momota left, and Saihara was alone again. He sighed, then pushed himself up to sit. He picked up the pills, shifting them in his palm; Risperdal, Melatonin, Prozac, and Ativan, as well as Advil for his surgery scars. Saihara knew all their names, and what they looked like, and what they did, all by heart. He didn't want that information. He'd rather be like Momota, just taking a simple painkiller or cold drug every now and again if needed. ...he didn't want to take them. He knew Momota would be disappointed if he didn't. He also knew that his life would be even worse. Momota was also bound to come back soon, just to check on him. He didn't trust Saihara not to just ignore the medication just as much as Saihara didn't trust himself. So he took them, and after he swallowed them all with the water, he sighed. It was the weekend, but he'd be damned if he wasn't going to work tomorrow. He was going to solve that Phantom case, and Ouma Kokichi's, if it damn well killed him.
He decided to listen to Momota, again, and begrudgingly trudged to the bathroom to wipe off his makeup. He looked like shit. Then, he went back to his bed, turned off the light, and stared at the ceiling. Momota knocked on his door a few minutes later and poked his head in.
"...Hey, you still awake?" he asked in a voice that could barely pass as a whisper. Saihara hummed tiredly in response. "Cool, cool. Well, I'm hitting the hay, alright?" Momota told him. Saihara didn't miss him squinting in the dark to see Saihara's nightstand. "Did you-?"
"I took my meds, I took off my makeup, I brushed my teeth," Saihara said, tapping his fingers absentmindedly on his stomach. The melatonin was kicking in. "Goodnight, Kaito."
"Well done." Saihara could hear Momota's proud smile. "Goodnight, best bro!"
Then, he was gone again. A few months ago, Saihara would've laid awake for hours, overthinking every little thing. Now, though, his mind was blank. Fuzzy. He let sleep take him.