Chapter Text
Cold.
Ouma shivered. It seemed even in death, the bone chilling cold wouldn’t leave him. Wouldn’t go away. Well, it made sense. He deserved it after all… Though, he hadn’t expected Hell to be so-
“Argh!”
- noisy . He hadn’t expected Hell to be much of anything, really, didn’t expect it to exist at all. Still…
“Where am I?”
Why was he hearing Kiibo’s voice? He found the robot strange, but it’s not like he hated him that much. Oh, then-!
“A classroom?”
Ouma wondered how the robot died. Did someone kill him? Did he kill himself? Or maybe he died of natural causes long after the killing game ended… whatever “natural causes” meant for a robot.
“I see… yes, attempting to explore does seem to be the most logical course of action!”
Ouma ignored Kiibo’s muffled voice and fading footsteps as gears in his mind continued to spin. How did time work in the afterlife? Was everyone here? Ah, but if time moved at least somewhat normally here, it seemed most likely that Kiibo was killed… so the killing game was still ongoing.
“Shit!” Ouma cursed and began biting his nail.
What went wrong? What went wrong? He had no doubt that Saihara was the reason the plan failed, but how? What evidence did he leave behind? It should have been perfect! Did Momota screw up? He should have known better than to trust that idio-
No.
Ouma closed his eyes and took a deep breath. There was no point wallowing, not anymore. He was dead. He could beat himself up over his failures later; for now…
He felt around, trying to get a sense of the space he was in. There were walls all around him, cold and hard, clearly metal- a locker? Was he sitting in a locker? He pushed at each of the “walls”, and when he pushed the wall to his right—
*Click*
It swung open. And in front of him was…
“Ha… hahaha- hahahahahaha!”
Of course. A classroom, overgrown vines hanging from the ceiling, windows barred with bright red barbed wire, all illuminated by a neon green electric blackboard- of course Hell would look like the Academy for Gifted Juveniles. He’d never escape it, not even in death. Kiibo had mentioned a classroom, hadn't he? Ouma laughed and laughed and laughed until he was gasping for air. He couldn’t think of a more fitting hell.
With a shaky breath, he walked forward and- Huh? Ouma blinked. He was… still sitting. He hadn’t moved? He looked down at his legs and tried to shake one, a simple movement, but still, it didn’t move. He pinched his thigh. He felt nothing.
Great. Perfect! Just- perfect. Even in death, he couldn’t have nice things. He wanted to laugh, to scream, to cry. Instead, he took a shaky breath in and looked out into the empty classroom, gaze landing on a nearby desk, and sighed. Well, it's not like this will be my first time crawling. He dragged himself to the desk on trembling arms– Why were they so weak? Did injuries carry over to the afterlife? Why?– eventually pulling himself onto a chair. It was a struggle, but he managed.
Ouma cursed his useless legs. He already hated the feeling of weakness… Was this supposed to be karma? How boring. Even he could think of a better-
“Oh!” Someone gasped.
Ouma turned towards the door as it creaked open. He wasn’t too surprised to see Akamatsu, but-
“Saihara-chan?!”
He spoke without thinking and jolted up- as much as he could with his legs being the way they were, at least- mind racing. Why was Saihara here? Did time really move differently? Maybe this wasn’t Hell because otherwise- Ouma’s mind felt like it was failing. Nothing made sense. Why, why, why, why–
“Why are you here?”
Ouma tried his best to sound obnoxious as usual, but it came out weak. Still, he watched Saihara, waiting for an explanation, or a question, or an accusation, or- something . Anything. But instead…
“Huh? Me?”
Saihara spoke quietly, offering up nothing. His face held no recognition, no realization… nothing. Just- nothing.
What?
Akamatsu stepped in.
“You know Saihara-kun? Do you happen to know why we’re here? Or how we can get out?”
Her hands were clasped together in front of her chest as Ouma just stared. Was this some sort of joke? But he only found a painfully earnest smile on Akamatsu’s face. He felt sick. He needed to rethink everything, this was wrong-
Ouma contorted his lips into a playful grin and spoke cheerfully.
“Hmm~ Maybe I do, maybe I don’t! But would you even want to listen to a liar like me? I could lead you into a trap, you know~”
The mask slipped on easily- his practiced, childish smile spreading across his face. He needed more information. More time- he couldn’t show weakness here.
“A liar?” Akamatsu looked bewildered, and Ouma’s heart sank at the further confirmation of his theory… Dammit.
“Yep!” Ouma popped the ‘p’ and held back a grimace as he put his hands behind his head. It hurt. “Haven’t you heard of them? They’re pretty common, y’know. Actually, anyone who doesn’t call themselves a liar is probably just as much of one as me, or even more so! I haven’t met a single person in my fifteen long years on this planet that hasn’t lied, not even once! Though maybe that’s just a lie.” Ouma rambled, trying his best to come off as chipper even though his throat burned and his mind raced.
Akamatsu looked shocked, then confused, then annoyed.
“I- Whatever! Just answer my question, do you know how we can get out of here?”
Ouma set an arm on the desk and rested his head into his palm.
“Nishishi~ You’re so silly, Akamatsu-chan. So, so silly… Welp. Can’t be helped! That’s just who you are.” Before she could speak again, he quickly continued. “But why should I tell you anything? We’re not friends, I mean, we just met each other a few minutes ago. Why should I trust you? Or rather, why should you trust me?”
Akamatsu groaned, muttering “If you don’t want to tell me anything, just say so…” then moved to leave. When Saihara didn’t do the same, she tugged on his sleeve. “Saihara-kun? C’mon, let’s go, I’m sure we can find someone else who knows a way-”
“Why… Why did you know my name? And Akamatsu-san’s for that matter. We hadn’t introduced ourselves…” Saihara held his mouth with his hand and stared at Ouma with a sharp look in his eyes.
“Oooh~ You wanna know that, huh? Nishishi~ Well, I do have a soft spot for my beloved detective, so I’d be willing to tell you!” Ouma glanced at Akamatsu. “But only you.”
“Wait!” Akamatsu pouted. “That’s not-”
“Fair? Come on Akamatsu-chan, you sound even more like a child than I do!”
“Grrr…”
“So, what’ll it be, Saihara-chan? I’m going to tell you that this is a limited time offer, so choose wisely!”
“I…” Saihara began speaking, but Akamatsu cut him off.
“Come on Saihara-kun, don’t listen to him! He’s probably just lying anyway, so let’s go-”
Heedless of her words, Saihara looked straight into Ouma’s eyes and spoke. “I accept your offer.”
“Saihara-kun?”
“Even if he lies… there’s a chance I could learn something useful. I can’t just ignore that.”
“Saihara-kun…” Akamastu smiled softly. “Okay. I’ll trust your decision.”
Tired of this charade, Ouma cut in. “Awww, how sweet! But I’ve had enough of watching all this sappy stuff, so shoo, shoo! Saihara-chan and I have important business to get to!”
With one last glare at Ouma, Akamatsu left the room, shutting the door loudly on her way out.
The detective still stood near the doorway, so Ouma beckoned him closer. “C’mere, take a seat, sit, sit! It’s a pain for me to talk to you when you’re standing- what if all this straining permanently damages my neck?!”
Saihara approached slowly, but he did sit down, letting out a quiet huff. “Okay, but if it bothered you that much, you could just stand up…”
“Nishishi~ An evil supreme leader like me, standing up for the sake of peasants? In your dreams!”
“Evil supreme leader?” Saihara spoke, and Ouma abruptly realized he was falling into old habits. Shit, he needed to backtrack- it always was hard to stay cautious around Saihara.
“Mhmm. But come now, Saihara-chan, that wasn’t what you reeeeeally wanted to ask, was it?”
“Oh, I wanted to ask-”
Ouma cut him off. “Nope!”
“What?” Saihara looked so bewildered, and Ouma couldn’t help but laugh at the sight.
“Nishishi~ Before you start your interrogation Mister Detective, I need a couple things from you! Otherwise, I’d be giving away all my valuable information for free , and that wouldn’t be very fair, would it?
“I… guess?”
“Yep! So in return for my oh-so-valuable info, you’ll do three things for me! Find and grab a certain object , help me with a certain task , and promise not to share a certain piece of information . Three requests for three questions! A steal, if I do say so myself.”
“That’s–”
“No haggling is allowed! Either you agree, or no info will be shared!
“But aren’t most of these… dependent on me acting in good faith in the future?”
“Yuppers. But I trust my beloved detective~ Soooo? What’ll it be?
“I… agree.”
“Great!” Ouma smiled wide. “Ouma Kokichi.”
Saihara blinked. His eyelashes were unfairly pretty- Focus!
“It’s my name~ You should probably know the name of your new partner-in-crime, riiiight? So now that you know it, ask away, Detective~”
Ouma couldn’t help but grin as Saihara held his face in his typical ‘detective thinking pose.’ It felt… good. Easy, like he was back in simpler times. Though, if his theory is correct, he actually was-
“How did you know our names? And my talent… you could know Akamatsu-san from her public performances, but that doesn’t explain how you could know about me. I don’t remember meeting you either… So how?”
Ouma resisted the urge to spin an outrageous lie to see Saihara’s shocked and puzzled face. This wasn’t his Saihara, and if he wanted this Saihara’s cooperation, he needed to be at least somewhat truthful… as dangerous as that was. But if he was back at the beginning, the ringleader could be listening to everything right now. He’d have to tread carefully.
“Woooow Saihara-chan! Coming right out the gate swinging, huh? I’ll answer your question- but! Before we continue… two things! One, although I am a liar, I promise to answer your questions truthfully! The game won’t work otherwise, and that’d be no fun. Two~” Ouma tapped the table, debating for a second on how to word this. “…Let’s just say I can’t speak freely. Got that?”
Saihara nodded, and Ouma clapped. “Neat-o! Well then, I know your name…” Dramatic pause. “Because I’ve met you before.” Saihara puzzled over that, but Ouma just laughed. “Don’t worry if you can’t remember Detective- I’ll never forget! My love will never die…”
“But how come you remember and I don’t?”
“Question number two? Nishishi~ Don’t give me that look- fine, fine, I won’t count this one. Just this once! That last answer wasn’t exactly the whole story… but hmm~ Let’s just say it’s because of my Ultimate Talent.” Not exactly, but even I’m not sure, so this will have to do.
“Your Ultimate… Does it have something to do with what you said before? About being an Evil Supreme Leader?”
“Ding-ding-ding! The Ultimate Detective gets it right! But that’s all you're getting out of this question. Two left~”
“Do you… really know a way out of here?”
“Boooring. That’s your second question?” Saihara raised a brow. “Alright, alriiiight. I know two ways- no, three ways to get out of here. But one is stupidly difficult, the other is just stupid and difficult, and the last one… won’t work yet.”
Ouma rocked in his seat as the detective mulled over his words. He missed playing with Saihara so much…
“Last question… Can I trust you?”
“Ha- Hahahahaha! Oh Saihara-chan, that’s even worse than your last question.” Ouma smiled wryly. “Even if I said I wouldn’t lie, you really shouldn’t trust a liar like me so easily you know.” Saihara didn’t speak. “I’m… not sure I can answer that. I want the best for you, for all of you, but… heh, no. I don’t think you should trust me.”
Saihara nodded. Ouma isn’t quite sure what that means.
“Thank you, Ouma-kun.”
“Don’t thank me yet! You’ve still gotta fulfil your end of the bargain.”
“Ah, the certain item , certain task , and certain info ? Is there anything in what we just talked about that I can’t share?”
“Non non! That was your reward, and you can do whatever you want with it~ No, right now I need you to grab something.”
“Okay. What is it?”
“A wheelchair.”
“...” Realization dawned and Saihara grew pale. “What?!”
“A wheelchair, dummy! Or a chair with wheels. A wheely-chair? There’s gotta be at least one in this academy…”
“Wait, wait! Why do you need a wheelchair?!”
Ouma leveled Saihara a flat look and asked, dead-pan: “Why do you think?”
Saihara went silent.
“Aww, don’t look at me like that~” Ouma’s smile dropped, his voice solemn. “If anyone here deserves pity, it’s you .”
Saihara looked startled, but Ouma quickly dropped his serious demeanor and gave a mischievous grin. “Well then, chop-chop, we don’t have all day~!”
Saihara left, and Ouma was alone with his thoughts once more. He was tired, but he couldn’t rest. Not now. He needed to know more about his current situation… So far, it seemed like he went back in time, to the beginning of the killing game. Well, not exactly- his injuries still existed. Proof that everything he went through wasn’t a lie. His back and right arm burned, he could still feel the scab on his forehead and… his legs didn’t work. Luckily his makeup seemed to be on as well; The bruises would just be a reminder of his weakness, a reminder of how easy it would be to make him the victim. He couldn’t be weak- he wouldn’t, legs be damned. He would do better this time, he was going to do it right .
Eventually, Saihara returned with the requested item in tow. It wasn’t a wheelchair, just a chair with wheels, but it was better than nothing.
“Sorry-”
Ouma cut off Saihara. “No apologies, Saihara-chan! We don’t have time for your moping- instead, help me!”
Saihara nodded and reached toward Ouma who smacked his hands indignantly. “Not me, silly! Hold the chair still, the chair!”
Saihara blushed, but did as requested as Ouma maneuvered himself into the new chair. It took some effort and Ouma was extremely conscious of Saihara’s gaze, but he kept his face flat through the ordeal. He refused to dwell on it now (though later was fair game.)
“Okie-doki, Saihara-chan! Let’s go meet our new classmates~”