Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

•

"Jeez..." the detective muttered under his breath, tossing the newspaper down onto his desk. His partner gingerly picked it up to read the entry that had gotten him so mad.

"Same guy, you think?" he asked, watching the detective as he wandered over to the evidence board. He nodded and tapped a chipped black nail on a photo of a young person with shoulder-length, indigo hair in curls, their face obscured by a white mask decorated like a clown.

"Yeah. Grab their file, please?" the man requested and his companion immediately complied, selecting the far-too-empty file from the drawer and handing it to the detective. His face set into determination as he opened it.

"I will find you, Phantom Thief."

• • •

Ouma Kokichi was still grinning madly to himself as he slipped in through the door and slammed it behind him, the adrenaline rushing through him as it always did after every time. He hung his cloak and mask up by the door, but not before taking something out of his pocket.

"Hey, Himi-chan!" Ouma greeted as they entered the common area and tossed the bloodied handkerchief into the fireplace.

"You should really stop doing that, Ouma," Yumeno complained, looking up from her cards, "It's not a good smell, and it takes days to go away."

Ouma just shrugged and disappeared into the bathroom to clean himself off. After changing his dirtied suit and tossing it into the bathtub, then fixing up their messied hair, they re-emerged and took a seat at Yumeno's table, the younger already dealing them a hand. Ouma pulled a hair tie from his wrist and scraped his indigo curls into a loose ponytail, first looking over his cards, then taking in his opponents.

18-year-old Yumeno Himiko, petty thief, and terrible Blackjack player.

Alongside her sat Hoshi Ryouma, 23, wanted on death row for mass murder. Also a terrible Blackjack player.

They, Ouma Kokichi, the 19-year-old phantom thief and amazing Blackjack player, grinned manically. This would be easy.

Oh, funny thing? Ouma Kokichi was also a huge liar.

Hoshi took in his winnings.

"Eh, my heart wasn't in it!" Ouma shrugged and tucked his arms behind his head. He kicked his feet up onto the table, "accidentally" scattering all of the cards onto the floor. Hoshi narrowed his eyes and mumbled under his breath before jumping down from his seat to gather up the mess.

"Is your heart ever in it?" Yumeno teased with a roll of her eyes. Ouma pouted and edged his foot over to her mug of tea on the table. "Don't you dare," she warned. Ouma slowly tilted his foot over until the toe of his boot lightly tapped the porcelain. Yumeno quickly snatched it up in her hands away from him. "Nyehhh! You're such a pain..."

Ouma laughed and swung his feet off of the table, jumping up to stand. He began to pace the room.

"Everyone! I met someone very interesting today," they announced to the whole room. Various other people who'd been previously occupied now looked up at him.

"Who? A therapist?" A man with spikey red hair and a goatee tossed a dart at a board as he spoke, hitting a perfect bullseye.

"Ha, good one. You know he scared the last one into quitting their job," responded a girl with low, dirty blonde pigtails.

"Non, non," Ouma dismissed, unamused. "Actually, I found the detective who took my nii-chan from me."

Hoshi looked up and raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Ouma pulled a phone out of his pocket and began scrolling to find something.

"Just let me find...-"

"-Hey, that's my phone!" a voice interjected.

"Shut up, Kii-boy, this isn't about you!" Ouma rebuttled. "Aha!" He motioned for everyone to gather around and placed the phone down in the middle of the table. It showed a picture of a man, probably not much younger than Ouma himself, with dark blue hair hidden under a black baseball cap. He sat hunched over a desk with his chin resting in his hand, his face partially hidden due to both the hat and the angle of the photo, with only pale skin and a small fleck of a golden eye visible. Beside him, you could just about make out another figure, but their face (and any other defining features) was hidden from view.

"Did you take this from outside a window??" the red-haired man questioned. "I thought you said you met him!"

"Oh, did I?" Ouma chuckled, "Hm, nah, I just tracked him down. Saihara Shuuichi's his name. He's only 19, the youngest detective to ever supposedly solve a murder case on his own, and be allowed to work independently on the main team. He's their boy-genius prodigy. Destined to be Japan's greatest, they say."

"Japan's greatest detective, who detained a wrongly-accused innocent?" Yumeno deadpanned.

"Exaaactlyyyy!!" Ouma whined, slamming his hands down on the table repeatedly to emphasize their words. "But!" he grinned evilly now and clasped his hands, "When I met him today-"

"-Stalked him."

"-I found out that he's actually investigating us now!" Ouma ignored the red-head's interject. "Sooooooo that means we can have a little fun!"

"You mean, you can have a little fun," a strawberry-blonde woman with icy blue eyes commented, "None of us actually gave a shit about that creep. He wasn't even in D.I.C.E!"

"Gonta does!" said a large man with unruly forest green hair, "Gonta wishes for Amami-san to be brought home safe so he may protect him!"

"Yeah? Well you're only here because that purple piss-stain over there threatened your pet stick!" the woman spat in response. The green-haires man, Gokuhara Gonta, looked on the edge of tears.

"And you're only here because I promised not to rat you out to the cops. Right, Iruma-chan?" Ouma glared at her. Iruma instantly looked ashamed and tears pooled in her eyes as she muttered beggings of forgiveness. He ignored her. "Anyways, trashy whore opinions aside, I've got a great plan to take down this wannabe-Sherlock and save our nii-chan! Who's in?"

No one moved.

"Great! Kii-boy, come with me!" Ouma clenched his fists to his chest and his violet eyes sparkled in excitement.

"What?!" Pale blue eyes widened and stared at Ouma in bewilderment. "I never agreed to this!"

"Sure you did!" Ouma picked the phone back up off the table and waved it at them, "After all, you already volunteered this!"

"That was not voluntary! You stole it!" Kiibo argued, but Ouma wasn't listening. He pocketed the phone and promptly left the room, then, begrudgingly, Kiibo followed them. They were forced to trudge after Ouma, all the way across the city, to the police headquarters. There was no way this was going to go well.....

*TAP*

*TAP*

*TAP*

*TAP*

"What the hell is that?!" Momota growled, angrily pushing himself out of his seat.

"Ignore it," Saihara advised, not looking up from his computer. "It'll just be some delinquent kids that are trying to get you riled up over nothing."

Momota sighed and fell back down into his chair.

*TAP*

*TAP*

*TAP*

"Bro, c'mon, it's really starting to piss me off!" Momota complained. "Besides, aren't you a police guy? It's your job to stop delinquent teens!"

"I'm not a 'police guy', I'm a detective," Saihara replied, pushing a pencil between his lips, "And I have more important things to be working on right now."

*TAP*

*TAP*

"Holy– I'm actually gonna go insane."

"Fine." Saihara slammed his pencil down on the table and stood up, begrudgingly investigating the noise.

*TAP*

*TAP*

*SMASH!*

"Oh, that's probably not good," he muttered and cautiously approached the now-broken window. There was a large rock on the floor surrounding the broken glass. Saihara picked it up, then went to look out the window. Below, there were two people looking up at him, both wearing near-identical white outfits with clown-like masks, a pile of stones and pebbles on the ground between them. One of them, the one with spikey white hair, looked slightly nervous just from their body language. Saihara did not recognize them. The other? Saihara could recognize that ridiculous purple mop and checkered tie anywhere.

"Hey, Detective!" the phantom thief audibly grinned up at him. Saihara frowned and quickly turned on his heel away from the window, snatching up his coat as he made his way to the door.

"C'mon, Kaito!" he yelled at his friend.

"Wha-? Alright, alright!" Momota jumped out of his seat and ran after Saihara, who had already vaulted halfway down the stairs.

The criminals had obviously been waiting for him, because when Saihara burst out the front doors of the precinct, he heard them both laugh and begin to run away.

The chase was on.

"Kaito, take a bike! Try get ahead of them!" Saihara yelled at his companion as he sprinted off as fast as he could after the criminals.

"ROGER!" Momota flattened his spikey magenta hair beneath a cycle helmet and mounted his motorcycle. He kicked it into gear and sped off in the direction that the culprits had fled.

Now, Saihara Shuuichi wasn't the fittest man in the world. Not to mention, he wasn't exactly wearing the best attire for running in. His joints screamed in his tight-fitting suit pants, his lungs ached with his anxiety, and the newly-healed scars on his chest burned with the exertion. Still, he continued to sprint at his top speed, following flashes of white and purple all through the back streets of Oumiya-ku. The criminals were fast. Saihara wondered if he really was just incredibly slow, considering the gain they had on him. He decided to settle on, no, they were just smaller than him. Shorter legs could run faster, right?

That was probably right.

After nearly 10 full minutes of running, Saihara was almost ready to pass out. Seemingly on cue, the criminals ducked into an alleyway. Saihara followed a few seconds later. He rounded the corner, then collapsed back against the wall, panting heavily.

"Woooow, you're really unfit, huh, Detective?" a voice taunted. Wearily, Saihara lifted his gaze to the owner of the voice. The purple-haired phantom thief. Saihara had never actually seen them up close before. He'd originally put it down to only ever seeing them from far away or as a blur, but even now, right up close, Saihara still couldn't for the life of him figure out what they were. He thought hearing their voice would help, but it didn't. Their voice was pitchy, cracking quite often, and fell directly on that line between 'too-high-for-a-woman' and 'too-deep-for-a-man'. From what Saihara could see behind the edges of mask, the thief's facial features looked soft and feminine, and they were rather small, but their build bordered closer to that of an adolescent boy. Plus, they couldn't be any taller than 5'1, at Saihara's best guess. Were they just a kid?? They certainly acted like one...

Shaking his thoughts away, Saihara forced himself to stand as straight as he could. He pointed an accusing finger at the criminals.

"You... You are under- under arrest...!" he panted. The Phantom stared at him blankly for a solid ten seconds, before they suddenly burst out laughing. They howled and doubled over, clutching their stomach, and their companion awkwardly began chuckling alongside them.

"You-! You are funny!" they laughed while Saihara glared. He made a move to grab at the Phantom's wrist, but they were much faster and dodged out of the way. However, Saihara kicked his leg out and tripped them up. As they fell, he grabbed the back of their cape and lifted them up, pinning them against the wall. He held his arm crossed over their chest and moved a hand to the stun gun in his holster. He pulled it out and aimed it at the white-haired companion, warning them to stay back. He had no intention of using it, he never did, but the criminal didn't know that; the warning was enough. He looked back to his captor just in time to see them shake themselves out of their stupored gaze.

"Oh!~ Gee, Mister Detective, can't you be a gentleman and at least take me out to dinner first?" they teased. Saihara didn't let his expression falter. So now he definitely hoped that they weren't just a kid. He continued to let his eyes bore into them. "Aw, you got a boyfriend already? It's okay, I don't mind. I'm good with open relationships!" Saihara's eye twitched. "No way, is it a girlfriend? Y'know, you really don't have that look about you, but I guess-"

"Shut up!" Saihara snapped. He couldn't force his stare any longer and dropped his head. His hat hid his face from the thief, who laughed. "Who are you?"

"Why should I tell you that?" the Phantom challenged.

"Because-" Saihara wished Momota was here. "Because... You're a wanted criminal!"

"Wanted? By whom?"

"Me!"

"Aw, babe, that's so sweet of you!" Saihara dared himself to look back up at the Phantom, who took the opportunity to motion blowing a kiss at him. He frowned.

"You two are coming back to the precinct with me. You are under arrest. Do you understand?"

"Hmmm..." The Phantom pretended to think, then looked to their companion, "Whaddya think, Kii-chan? Do we understand?"

The address to the person behind him made Saihara turn, and that was his first mistake. As soon as his eyes left the Phantom, they made their move. They kicked out hard into Saihara's shins, making him stumble back into the companion. The companion took his wrists and swiped the handcuffs from Saihara's own belt to lock them together. They then released Saihara and let him stumble to the ground.

"Aw, well, that was fun, Detective! We had a good time!" The Phantom smirked at him from above now. "I'm pretty sure I hit my step-goal for today, too!"

"This is your idea of fun?" Saihara deadpanned back.

"Yep!" the thief replied, popping the 'p'. They started retreating, walking backwards so they continued to face Saihara. "We should tooootally do this again some time! You're such a joy to hang out with, Detective Saihara-chan!"

Saihara's eyes widened and he struggled against his bounds, trying to get at the retreating criminals.

"H-Hey! How do you know my--"

"See ya!~"

The Phantom giggled with a 'ni-shishi' like a mischievous child, before turning and jumping up to latch onto the side of a moving tram that was going past, their companion following right behind. It was so conveniently timed that Saihara had to wonder exactly how much of this they'd had planned. However, unfortunately, Saihara had more troubling things to worry about in that moment.

Saihara shuffled himself over to the wall of the alley and leaned his back against it. He let his head fall back against the dirty bricks, knocking his hat down over his eyes. He sighed deeply and resigned to simply waiting for Momota to catch up and find him. How, he wondered, the other man had been slower on a motorcycle than Saihara had been running was a mystery that even Japan's greatest prodigy detective couldn't solve.

Saihara was waiting a full 15 minutes before he heard a loud engine approach, cut, then heavy footsteps wandering down the alley.

"Whatcha doing takin' a nap, Shuuichi? Where'd those criminals go?"

Saihara silently stared at up him with the blankest, most unimpressed expression he could muster.

"Well?" Momota put his hands on his hips. He shook his head disapprovingly. "Jeez, bro, this is why you're just my sidekick."

'Then why didn't YOU catch them?' Saihara argued in his head, but he couldn't quite bring himself to say it out loud.

"They got away," he said instead. Obviously.

"Duh! Cuz you were busy hanging out here instead of chasing them like I was! It was tricky though, I lost them when they went down some alleyway."

Saihara was too tired to even care to argue at this point.

"Kaito, could you please just help me out of these handcuffs?" he sighed.

"Huh?" Momota crouched down next to him to look. "Bro, why were you playing around with handcuffs?"

"I wasn't--" Saihara cut himself off with a sigh. Momota worked the handcuffs open and released him. Saihara rubbed his sore wrists from where the metal had been, then took the cuffs from Momota and clipped them back on his belt. "Thank you," he said, then immediately pulled a small notebook and a pen out of his inner jacket pocket and began sketching his encounters.

They were rough and messy, he'd add more detail later.

"That's them?" Momota asked, sliding down next to Saihara on the ground while he drew.

"Yes, these are the two that I pursued today," Saihara confirmed. "I'm almost certain they had no true ill intentions, and simply wanted to get a rise out of me by making me chase them halfway across the city. However, they do have my name, somehow. That's troubling."

"How'd they figure it out??"

Saihara just shrugged and flipped to a new page. He thought for a minute, then began sketching again.

"...Is that a girl or a guy?" Momota asked him.

"No idea," Saihara said truthfully. "I couldn't tell. I thought that, maybe if I started to draw what I think they'd look like, it'd subconsciously come together, but even this sketch ended up with them looking completely androgynous."

"Weird..." Momota rubbed his goatee'd chin thoughtfully. "Looks like a chick to me," he said.

"You think?" Saihara shut the notebook now and tucked it back in his pocket.

Momota nodded, "Yeah, I'm almost certain. That, or a trap!"

Saihara drew a sharp breath and frowned.

"Ah- Shit, Shuuichi, you know I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry!"

"No, don't worry, you're good," Saihara said quickly to avoid the awkwardness. Then, he stood up and brushed the dirt off his legs and back. Momota followed him out of the alleyway.

"You want a ride back?" he offered, stepping a leg over his bike. Saihara glanced down the tram line. The criminals were no doubt long-gone by now. There was no point in following it.

"Um- Yeah, sure," Saihara decided. Momota grinned and passed him a spare helmet before revving the bike's engine. Saihara took off his hat and replaced it with the helmet that he fastened. He then hopped onto the bike behind Momota, wrapping his arms around his friend's middle and gripping his hat tightly.

"You ready?" Momota asked, revving the engine.

"As ready as I can be," Saihara replied and tightened his grip. Momota nodded and they sped off back to the precinct.

•

"Why did you let him catch up to us?"

Kiibo and Ouma sat on the roof of the tram, Ouma swinging his legs dangerously over the edge while Kiibo kept theirs tucked up tight.

"Love makes you do crazy things, my dear Kii-boy," Ouma hummed thoughtfully.

"I- What??" Kiibo questioned. Ouma laughed.

"No idea!" he grinned, "I just thought it'd be funny!"

"We could've been arrested!" Kiibo argued, "Then we'd be just like Amami-kun!"

Ouma frowned at them.

"You don't deserve to speak his name," they pouted. "Besides, that dumbass detective only caught up to us because we let him. There's no way he'd be able to arrest me unless I gave myself up!"

"...You mean us, right?"

"Hm? Oh, no, he could definitely get you," Ouma shrugged. "You're slow, and kinda stupid. It's a wonder you even escaped today."

"H-Hey! That's not nice!" Kiibo complained. Ouma ignored them, and when the tram next came to stop, he jumped down from the roof onto the street below. Kiibo hesitated, but soon followed behind them before the tram could move again. They stumbled on the landing.

"Ow- OW!" they whined, "I think I twisted my ankle!"

"Jeez, you're such a baby!" Ouma complained. "C'mon, let's go."

"But Ouma-kun, my ankle!"

"I don't care."

"But I can't walk properly!"

"Holy shit, you are so pathetic!" Ouma groaned and reluctantly gestured for Kiibo to climb on his back. He hoisted them up, his hands supporting their thighs while Kiibo's arms hung around his neck. Luckily, Ouma was surprisingly strong for their size. They started the walk back to the D.I.C.E hangout.

"Thank you..." Kiibo muttered.

"Talk again, and I will drop you in a puddle."

Chapter Text

Saihara had six files spread out on his desk, all containing the information of his current suspects for the phantom thief's associates. He had nothing on the phantom thief themselves.

"I think I've got one," he said after a while. Momota looked up from where he was stacking pencils on top of one another, aka 'helping'.

"One what?"

Saihara fought the urge to roll his eyes. He picked up one of the files and pushed it towards Momota.

"Iidabashi Tetsuya," he announced, "Known to basically everyone around them by the nickname 'Kiibo'. That's the one that was with the Phantom when they threw rocks through our window."

Momota stroked his goatee between his thumb and forefinger as he studied the document.

"I guess there's the white hair... but how can you tell for sure?" he asked.

"Actually, the hair didn't even come into play with narrowing it down until the end. That felt way too easy," Saihara said, then began to explain; "I started off with all the others that we have confirmed to be working together, aka Yumeno Himiko-san, Gokuhara Gonta-kun, and most likely that guy we arrested a few months ago, Amami Rantarou-kun, as well as our anonymous phantom thief." As he spoke, Saihara opened up the front page of the files to each of these individuals. "These people have three things in common. They're all under the age of 25, they've all only ever been convicted of rather petty crimes, with the exception of Amami-kun, and... they were all close with the victim from the case that I- we followed last year."

"Who?" Momota questioned.

"Ah- Ouma Kokichi-kun was his name, I'm pretty sure," Saihara recalled, and retrieved the old file from a drawer in his desk. The boy on the file was barely 19, with pale skin, curly black hair, and mismatched purple and yellow eyes. The 'DECEASED' marking beside his name caught Saihara's eye. He hated it, considering he'd never actually reached a conclusion on whether Ouma Kokichi was still alive or not. It was his uncle that had ultimately decided to mark him as deceased, because the police had given up on trying to find him.

"Oh yeah, that guy!" Momota acknowledged. "Man, he had it rough, huh?"

Saihara grimaced and shut the file. Ouma Kokichi's had definitely not been the most delightful case he'd worked on, but at least 'solving' it had earned him this job.

"Anyway, I paired that information along with the fact that I heard the Phantom refer to their partner as 'Kii-chan', which, once it came down to looking at all the files I had, I could assume was short for Iidabashi-kun's nickname, and it all fell into place from there." Saihara tapped a finger on Kiibo's file. "Everything in here adds up pretty much exactly to who I chased today, too, in terms of height, body-type, and complexion."

"Damn!" Momota grinned and clapped Saihara on the back, the shorter man wincing slightly at the harsh contact. "You did good, bro! Of course, I was actually about to tell you pretty much the same thing about this... Kee-boy."

"...Kiibo."

"Yeah, yeah, obviously."

Momota backed up slightly as Saihara began searching his pockets for his notepad. He pulled out the page with his sketch of Kiibo from their earlier encounter, and tucked it into the file. Then, he retrieved another notebook from a drawer and flipped through a few pages, searching for something..

"Hey, what's that?" Momota asked, leaning over to get a look. Saihara furrowed his brows, trying to concentrate over Momota's looming presence. Eventually, he found it.

"Here," he said, tapping on the page. "This is what we have on Iidabashi-kun's relationship with Ouma-kun from Amami Rantarou's testimony."

Momota squinted his eyes at the page.

"Bro, your handwriting is shit," he grumbled.

Saihara rolled his eyes. 'It isn't really', he wanted to say, 'you're just dyslexic.'

"From what I can gather, Ouma-kun and Iidabashi-kun were pretty good friends," Saihara explained aloud, "Amami-kun's testimony states that the two argued and fought a lot, but they were still basically inseparable. Before the police dropped the search on a potential accomplice in Ouma-kun's disappearance, Iidabashi-kun was a top suspect simply because of how close they were with him, and Amami-kun had mentioned a close friend being involved in his claimed suicide."

Momota shifted his weight and leaned back away from Saihara.

"I thought Ouma was murdered?" he questioned, "Isn't that literally the reason we have Amami locked up right now?"

Saihara hummed and closed the notebook, but instead of putting it back in the drawer, he tucked it in his jacket pocket alongside his other one.

"Maybe. I don't think so, though," he replied. In reality, he had only gone along with the police's assumptions and not argued because he knew that having Amami there for questioning on Ouma's case at all times would be a whole lot easier. Of course, he felt a little guilty about keeping Amami locked up on suspicions that Saihara could very easily disprove in a few minutes, and also about lying to the police, but it was necessary for his bigger goal. He convinced himself by telling himself that Amami would be happy once Ouma's case was solved properly, too.

Of course, Saihara couldn't tell Momota any of that. He'd hate it, and he would absolutely rat Saihara's plan out to the police and other detectives, even accidentally.

Momota clapped a hand down on Saihara's shoulder.

"Shuuichi, bro, you're way too uptight!" he said. "Hey, why don't you come out for drinks with me and Maki Roll tonight?"

Harukawa Maki, aka 'Maki Roll'. Saihara didn't exactly have a problem with Momota's girlfriend, not a personal one anyway, but she could be pretty intense. Saihara was almost certain that she hated him, though.

Well, to be fair, she seemed to hate everyone who wasn't Momota himself.

"Just you and Harukawa-san? I'd feel like a third wheel..." Saihara weakly excused. Come on, Shuuichi! "Besides, I don't drink."

"No way! It's totally cool!" Momota insisted, "You don't have to have anything alcoholic, and if you really want, you could invite a friend of you own?"

Saihara frowned at the other man.

"Kaito... I don't have any other friends besides you."

"Sure you do!" Momota rested his hands on his hips, staring down at Saihara like a disappointed mother. "What about that blonde chick from university? What was her name-- Amane? Akashi-?"

"...A-Akamatsu-san...." Saihara corrected. Of course he remembered Akamatsu. "I guess... I guess I just haven't really spoken to her since... y'know?"

"C'mon, bro, you need to loosen up!" Momota clapped him on the back again, then moved to his own desk to collect his coat and bag. "Look; you give Akamatsu a call, ask her if she wants to grab a drink and catch up, and it's as easy as that!" Momota shrugged his bag over his shoulder and looked at Saihara expectantly.

"But Kaito-"

"Nope! No buts! You call her, or I'll do it my damn self," Momota said.

"Um- I... I don't... have her number...?" Saihara tried.

"Yes, you do."

Saihara sighed and cast his eyes down. Yeah, he did. He'd have felt bad if he'd cut Akamatsu out of his life completely. She hadn't done anything wrong, she was just... collateral damage in the horror that was Saihara's mental state.

Saihara stood up and slipped on his jacket, collecting all his things into his bag and returning the files to their drawers.

"I'll call her on the way, okay?"

"Shuuichi."

"I will!"

"No, you'll make some excuse about your phone running out of charge or not having any signal."

"..."

"Fine..."

Saihara begrudgingly pulled his phone out from his pocket with shakey hands. He fumbled with unlocking it, scrolled to Akamatsu's contact... then he hesitated.

"Go on, bro. Hesitation is for cowards!"

Saihara flicked a half-assed glare at Momota, then quickly pressed the call button before he could change his mind. He set it on loud-speaker, then dropped his phone onto the desk and stepped back like it was a tiny bomb about to explode. With every ring, Saihara could feel his heart pounding, growing louder and louder in his ears-

"Hi!" Her voice suddenly came through the receiver.

Saihara's brain completely stopped. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He stared in dumb silence at her name on his phone screen.

"Um, hellooo?" she repeated.

Momota nudged Saihara harshly.

"Ah-! Uh- H-Hey! This is... S-Saihara Shuuichi... from university?"

Saihara looked at Momota for reassurance, but the man just facepalmed.

"Haha! I know who you are, silly!" came Akamatsu's voice through the phone. "It's been so long! How are you?"

"Um- Uh, I'm- I'm good, I think..." Saihara picked at the skin around his nails, but only for a moment before Momota slapped his hand away. "How- How are you?"

"Oh, great!" Saihara could easily picture her warm smile as she said that. "I'm still doing piano, of course. I've got a pretty big gig booked for next week, where I'll finally be playing some of my own original material for an audience! You should totally come check it out, if you're free!"

"Oh... M-Maybe?"

Akamatsu definitely didn't sound mad at him. Was he reading this all wrong?

"Uh- Akamatsu-san... I was just wondering..." Saihara trailed off, looking to Momota for support again. Momota looked like he was on the verge of losing his sanity watching Saihara struggle so badly at having one conversation. "It's just- I'm going out for drinks tonight, with some friends... I was just wondering if... Maybe you'd like to come along? We could catch up a little... Tie up loose ends?"

Akamatsu's silence made Saihara start begging for the floor to open up and swallow him right then and there.

"Sorry, just had to reschedule a recital!" Saihara let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "I'll totally be there! What time, and where?"

"Um-" Saihara looked at Momota again.

"We were gonna head over now, so let's say... 7pm?" Momota said. "If you still live in the same place, we could totally come pick you up on the way," he offered.

"...that's your astronaut friend, right? Momota-kun?" Akamatsu asked.

"Y-Yeah!" Saihara laughed softly. "He's the one we're going out with... A-As well as his girlfriend...."

"Oooh Momota-kun got bitches before you, Saihara-kun!" Akamatsu laughed, "Or at least, I'm assuming...?"

"Oh yeah, Shuuichi is 100% bitchless!" Momota accounced. Saihara glared at him, but said nothing.

"Aww!" Akamatsu did not sound sympathetic in the slightest, and she giggled. "Anyways, yeah, I'm still in the same place! See you at ten-to, maybe?"

"That works!" Momota agreed. "Shuuichi can't wait to catch up! See you then!"

"See you!"

Then she hung up.

"See?" Momota grinned. "That wasn't so hard, now was it?"

Saihara's heart was threatening to rip right out of his chest. He felt light-headed. He clumsily lowered himself into his desk chair and clutched at his chest, trying to steady his breathing. Momota sighed sadly, then crouched down to Saihara's level.

"Hey, it'll be fine, Shuuichi. I promise," he said softly. "I'm... sorry I pushed you. I just want you to be happy, y'know?"

"I- I know..." Saihara slowly dropped his hand to his lap and fumbled his fingers together. "Th-Thank you, Kaito." He looked up at Momota and forced a small smile. Momota grinned back.

"Ready to go?" he asked, and Saihara nodded. Slowly, he eased himself back to his feet, and collected his phone off the table. Momota took his bag, and Saihara followed him out to the parking lot. "We'll drop home first, get changed and shit, then we'll go pick up Maki Roll and Akamatsu and find a nice place to hang at. Sound good?"

"Yeah, sure," Saihara nodded and slid himself into Momota's passenger seat.

Saihara zoned out for the entire journey back to their apartment, just staring tiredly out the window. Sometimes he wondered how he and Momota stayed friends. They were so different. But honestly, Saihara couldn't get rid of Momota if he tried. In a way, as much as the man's constant obnoxious confidence terrified him sometimes, he was grateful for that. Having someone like Momota Kaito in his life was what kept Saihara... well... alive.

Still, that was how he used to think about Akamatsu Kaede.

•

Back at their apartment, Saihara changed out of his uniform and into a dark sweater with a long, almost trench coat-like jacket. On a whim, he fixed his makeup in the bathroom before deciding to make himself a cup of tea while he waited for Momota. Sure, all Momota really had to do was change his shirt, yet for some reason, even after all that, Saihara still had time for tea.

Eventually, Momota appeared in the main room.

"C'mon, bro, we're gonna be late!" he announced. Saihara rolled his eyes and put his mug in the sink to be washed later, then joined Momota at the door. He pulled on his boots, then waited for Momota to find a suitable jacket (even though he always ended up wearing the same one anyway). While Saihara stood waiting, Momota glanced at him for a moment, then did a double-take back. He raised an eyebrow.

"Did you change your face or something?" he questioned.

"Uh- Yeah, new makeup..." Saihara muttered, surprised that Momota has even noticed.

Momota gave a thumbs up. "Looks good!"

Then, as predicted, he grabbed his same purple jacket from the hook and slung it over one arm before snatching his keys from the shelf and opening the door.

"Ready to go wow some ladies, Shuuichi?" he winked.

"...You know I'm not interested in that, Kaito," Saihara sighed.

"Eh, you can still wow 'em! They'll just be... a little more disappointed in the end..." Momota paused and furrowed his brow in confusion, as if trying to decipher himself what the fuck he had just said. "...anyways, lets get going!"

Good idea. End that conversation there. Saihara followed Momota out the door, letting the man lock it behind them, then they both headed down the stairs and out to Momota's car.

"Did you take your meds, by the way?" Momota asked as he buckled into the front seat.

"Yes, I did," Saihara confirmed, slipping into the backseat. Bit late to ask now though.

Momota started the ignition.

"How's your chest?" he asked.

"Still fine," Saihara replied. "You don't have to worry over me like this, Kaito. You're not my mom."

"Heart surgery is serious, I need to check in on you !" Kaito shot back as he started to drive off. Saihara tensed and said nothing. "I'm just making sure that you're taking care of yourself, alright, bro? You've been working way too hard recently, and I can see it dragging you down."

"I'm fine, Kaito, really," Saihara said. "I took my meds, I slept at least six hours last night, I had breakfast this morning, and I'm feeling fine. I promise, I'll always tell you if there's something wrong, okay?"

That was a lie. Saihara knew that.

"Okay, I trust you," Momota sighed. "I love you, bro. Alright? No homo."

"Yeah. You too, Kaito."

Saihara watched out the window as Momota drove them to Harukawa's house. She lived alone, though Saihara had no idea where she got the money to afford that. Actually, Saihara didn't think he even knew what her job was...

As they pulled up to her house and she slid into the front seat, he decided not to think about it anymore.

"Kaito..." Maki whispered, "...why do you insist on always bringing Saihara on our dates?"

In the back seat of the car, Saihara pretended not to hear.

"Because he's lonely, Maki Roll! Besides, he's bringing someone too, so it's not as awkward!"

Thanks, Kaito. Either Momota didn't care about trying to keep his voice down, or he was just terrible at it. Saihara huffed and rested his cheek in his palm, elbow against the window, watching the outside zoom past him in a blur.

He'd almost forgotten where they were going until they came to a stop in front of another, familiar apartment complex. Saihara immediately knew which window to look up at. In there, lived Akamatsu Kaede; she also supposedly still with her roommates, Iruma and Chabashira. Akamatsu had lived here for as long as Saihara had known her, but he hadn't been back here for... going on three years now.

Saihara practically hid himself, sliding down in the backseat while Momota went to go ring her doorbell.

"You look ridiculous, Saihara," Harukawa said, watching him with an unamused frown on her face. "You may be wearing a lot of black, but you're too pale to blend into the car seat. Might I suggest a dark mask?"

"...very funny, Harukawa-san," Saihara groaned and hunched over in his seat, bouncing his knee anxiously.

"It wasn't a joke," Harukawa told him, then turned away again. "Why did you invite her if you're going to act like a baby about it?"

"Kaito made me..." he mumbled.

"Then stop letting people like him push you around."

Harukawa wasn't able to say any more as the back door opened on the opposite side to Saihara, and a familiar girl poked her head in.

"Saihara-kun! Hi!" Akamatsu greeted. She looked just the same as Saihara remembered her, not that he'd really expected her to have changed all that much in three years. Her platinum blonde hair framed her soft, pale face in waves, nicely contrasting her violet eyes.

Violet eyes...

Saihara was getting distracted. Akamatsu was now already buckled into the seat beside him, and he'd said nothing to her yet. Dammit!

"Uh- H-Hey!" he greeted with a nervous smile, unable to meet her eyes. As always, he hid beneath the brim of his hat, but Akamatsu tilted her head just right to see his face. Saihara averted his eyes.

"You look good, Saihara-kun! Your makeup is so pretty! Did you do it yourself?" she asked.

"Y-Yeah... Thanks..." Saihara blushed and smiled nervously. God, wearing makeup was such a stupid idea. He should've known better. "Oh- And, uh, y-you look great, too!"

Satisfied that Saihara wasn't going to try and do a runner, Momota finally started to drive off.

Saihara definitely still considered it.

Akamatsu leaned forward slightly in her seat, trying to catch Harukawa's attention.

"Hi! Have we met before?" she asked.

Harukawa didn't look at her.

"No," she answered bluntly.

"Oh, well, hi there! My name's Akamatsu Kaede! It roughly translates as, 'passionate red maple tree', which doesn't actually mean a whole lot to me, but it's pretty cool!" The blonde girl introduced herself with a sweet smile.

"Harukawa Maki."

"Ooh, what a pretty name for such a pretty girl, Harukawa-san!" Akamatsu beamed. Harukawa seemed slightly taken aback, then quickly hid her blushing face.

"Thank you..." she muttered.

"Ay, Akamatsu, you tryna steal my girlfriend?!" Momota joked. Akamatsu laughed.

"Maybe!" she giggled. "It's good to see you again too, Momota-kun! How are you? How's the astronaut thing going?"

"Pretty good, actually!" Momota told her, manoeuvring the car in to park by a bar. Saihara was relieved that the journey was over. "I don't wanna brag, but I'm totally top of my class right now. I think they're gonna move me up to the higher set early!" Momota set the car into park and switched off the engine.

"Oh, wow, that's great!" Akamatsu praised as they both got out of the car. Harukawa followed, but Saihara just stayed and listened to their voices become muffled when the doors shut behind them. Their conversation faded out, and he collapsed his head back against the seat, sighing deeply. He enjoyed the silence for only a moment, before a heard tapping on the window. He tilted his head to see Momota frowning at him through the glass.

"Come on, Shuuichi! Let's go!" he called. Saihara sighed and slowly sat up properly, unbuckled his seatbelt, and exited the car. On autopilot, he followed his friends into the bar. Loud noises, lots of people, weird smells, pushy strangers, mass amounts of alcohol...

His own personal hell.

But... maybe everything would be okay?

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.