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Shuichi Saihara, the Ultimate Detective, was someone that everyone counted on.
It was a sentiment that always seemed to make his hair stand on end – a weight that cast an uneasy shadow on his daily life. All in all, it was something he never enjoyed dwelling on.
But as the lives of people he considered friends were cut short right before his eyes, he came to the reluctant conclusion that it was a reality he just had to accept. Because if he didn’t, he’d be nothing more than a bystander watching each of their fates be snuffed out one at a time.
The numbers dwindled, and their remaining futures rested on his shoulders. Those people were trusting him to unravel the mysteries of this manic school. They were trusting him with everything they had.
And Shuichi would do his best to repay that faith a hundred times over. He was a detective, after all.
I'm a detective. He told himself for what felt like the thousandth time. But the words never brought him the same sense of comfort they seemed to bring his classmates.
He found himself repeating them once more, unheard, as he stood alone in his newly opened research lab.
The newest floor of the academy had opened up, and with it had come a dizzying string of antics. They were given their prizes for surviving - the patronisation of it was bitter to him - and then were presented with the motive… a keycard. But before any of them could properly assess it, someone had thrown everyone into disorder once again.
Kokichi Oma, the Ultimate Supreme Leader, was someone no one could truly understand.
Try as he might, ‘reason’ always seemed to be a gray area where Kokichi was concerned. Shuichi was the group’s steady presence in their despair-filled lives, whereas Kokichi was a wild card that gave ‘enigmatic’ another layer of meaning.
Call it misplaced confidence, but Shuichi felt as though he had a decent idea of how each of his classmates ticked by now. He could easily pinpoint their intentions and goals… Though he could admit to there being harder books to read than others. Maki was an ever-present example of this, but even still, he felt as though some part of him got her in a way.
But Kokichi? It felt like every time he got close, a fog would burst through and cloud his perception of what was real and what was simply a lie. Nothing of what Shuichi knew about him ever seemed solid. In a moment, he would be learning a heartfelt truth about Kokichi, then he would turn the situation on its head, and everything he had told him would be deemed made up. Complete bull. That was the way it always was with Kokichi Oma.
And now he had run off somewhere with their next motive. It definitely wasn't a comforting thought… but they had left a select group to hopefully locate him before he ended up doing something brash.
He and the rest of his classmates were left to explore the new area at their leisure. With it, they found a few new research labs, his in particular. It was lavishly decorated - the kind of ‘detective’s office’ you'd see in mystery movies that tread the line between romanticising detective work and brutalising it a little too loosely. Maki and Shuichi had found that the most interesting part of the lab lingered amidst the files lining a sturdy bookshelf on the right side of the room, previous cases with every gruesome trick used splayed out for perusal.
Maki had left the lab to locate Kaito shortly after entering, so Shuichi had been left to stand apprehensively in front of a shelf that held the crimes of dozens in its contents. I should be used to it by now, he reminded himself as he flipped open a third file, the gritty aspects of investigative work… the wounds. The blood. The corpses.
But he wasn't. Despite all of Kaito’s boastings about his unshakable sidekick, he found everything just as horrible as he had when the first body had dropped. Which is why he found himself painfully unable to read any of the files past the names, the pictures or illustrations of the crime scene, and the cause of death… because simply reading anything else would remind him of just how useless he felt; How he was merely the clean-up of a crime, not the hero preventing it.
The door to the lab clicked. Shuichi straightened up, swiftly closing the file he'd been perusing as though whoever had just entered would peer over his shoulder and scold him for looking through it. He turned, expecting to see Maki or Kaito in the doorway, probably to tell him that they'd found something else on the new floor or simply to tell him that the search for Kokichi had been in vain.
Who he did see in the doorway was… no one. The door was closed, and nobody was there. Shuichi stood stock still in front of the bookshelf, the folder of an infamous rural serial killer’s 4th incident still clutched in his hands. His gaze lingered there. He could have sworn he heard the door open… he couldn't have just imagined it, right? Shuichi’s eyes raked over the door again, and then briefly combed the rest of the room. Empty.
I think reading through all these cases is starting to mess with my head, he reasoned, turning back to the shelf with a small, uneasy frown tugging at his lips.
“Hey, what's that you got there?”
Shuichi nearly jumped out of his skin as he found himself face to face with a curious Kokichi Oma, their noses an inch apart. A blaring yelp tore from his throat - “Kokichi!” – as he stumbled backwards, the file hugged against his chest in some attempt to settle his heart rate, which had spiked horribly at the scare.
The Supreme Leader, on the other hand, reeled back with a delighted laugh at the sight, his hands behind his head and a rejuvenated smile spreading across his face. “Nee-hee hee! Nerds are the easiest to sneak up on! You were so focused on your detective stuff that you didn't even notice me sneaking in here.”
Shuichi was doubled over, one hand on his knee to support himself while the other had a death grip on the file pressed to his heart. “W-Why were you even…” He gulped breath, feeling the colour fighting to return to his now very pallid face. “... t-trying to sneak in here?”
Kokichi watched as Shuichi panted in front of him, then crouched down himself to be at eye level - a gesture he was certain was meant to be mocking. “Whoever said I was sneaking in here?”
Shuichi's breath steadied, and he lifted his head to meet Kokichi’s gaze. “Uhm… you did. Just now.”
Kokichi tapped his chin in mock contemplation, “Oh yeah, I did, didn’t I?” He said brightly, straightening back up. “I'm totally like a cool undercover spy! I bet even murder girl would have a hard time keeping up with me!”
Shuichi straightened too, though his heartbeat still pounded in his ears. He watched Kokichi sway on the spot, unease tightening his brow. “You didn't answer my question…”
“Well, you didn't answer mine, either.” Kokichi crossed his arms with a childish pout. “Answer mine first, and then I'll answer yours. That's just basic manners, Shuichi.”
Shuichi huffed, lowering the file away from his chest and looking down at it. The apprehension on his face made his feelings all too clear. “It's really just–”
He paused.
A nagging feeling twisted in his gut – like a quiet alarm bell. Something told him that it probably wouldn't be a good idea to cue Kokichi in on the contents of this lab's files. It's not that he truly believed Kokichi would use the contents to plan a murder or anything, but the dreadful what if? seemed to hang over his head like a noose, tightening further as doubt gnawed at his resolve.
At the same time, he couldn't imagine a reality where Kokichi didn't discover what was inside of them eventually. He'd either riffle around on his own time, get someone else to spill its secrets, or maybe just rip the file out of Shuichi’s hands then and there, spoiling any hope he had of keeping them under wraps.
In the end, his caution won him over. “... it's really just paperwork regarding some infidelity cases.” Shuichi finished quietly, moving to place the folder back on the shelf in a way he hoped would convey a sense of casual disinterest.
He could feel Kokichi's eyes boring holes into the side of his head as he eventually turned back to him. He'd stopped swaying, simply looking at Shuichi with an expression void of any discernible emotion. It was looks like these that made Shuichi draw so many blanks about the Supreme Leader… that made him realise he didn't know the first thing about him.
But if nothing else, one fact stood out clearly at that moment.
He knows I'm lying. Shuichi swallowed harshly, his fingertips lingering uneasily on the edge of the shelf.
There was a stretch of silence that made his throat feel uncomfortably dry. Then, all at once, Kokichi’s grin snapped back into place.
“How boooooring.” He teased, voice dripping with playful sarcasm. “I thought the Ultimate Detective's lab would have way more interesting stuff!”
For a moment, Shuichi forgot to respond, taken aback by the idea that he'd gotten away with such a lame lie.
No – he corrected himself as he scanned Kokichi’s grin more carefully – he's playing into it.
“Yeah, well, detective work is honestly not all it's cracked up to be,” Shuichi said half-heartedly. He watched as Kokichi's eyes roamed the room, scrutinising the lab from corner to corner with a searching gaze before returning to Shuichi again.
“Clearly.” Kokichi groaned, sounding genuinely disappointed – as if he was hurt that there weren't more bloodstains on the carpet or a web of nonsensical red string pinned across various corkboards. Even so, the Ultimate Supreme Leader began wandering around the room, his hands folded behind his back as his feet traced the perimeters.
Shuichi watched, his hand slipping off the shelf to rest uneasily at his side. Despite himself, he decided to test the waters of how far Kokichi was willing to let him get.
“I answered your question,” He said carefully, “so now you have to answer mine.”
Across the room, Kokichi hummed as he prodded a fake plant, leaning in to stick his face between the leaves as though expecting to find something hidden in the stalk. “What was your question again? Your lab’s lameness sapped it right out of my memory.”
Shuichi's eyes tracked him as he moved on to begin poking an oil painting hanging on the wall. “I asked why you were sneaking in here.”
Kokichi drawled an exaggerated, “Oooooohhhhhh, riiiiiight…” as he sauntered over to the large mahogany desk opposite the entrance. He flopped into the cushioned chair like a child testing out a springy mattress, spinning it lazily before kicking his legs up onto the desk's surface.
“I just wanted to hang out with you!” He declared cheerfully, throwing his arms out like a tour guide presenting the best painting in a museum’s collection – his hands gesturing dramatically in Shuichi’s direction.
And there it was – the catch, Shuichi huffed. It was a blatant lie. But he knew he couldn't call it out, not without Kokichi turning the tables on him as well. The mental gymnastics Shuichi found himself having to perform whenever speaking with Kokichi made him exhausted beyond belief… but still, he held onto the hope of prying one honest answer out of him… however slim of a chance it might be.
“Hang out with me?” Shuichi echoed, folding his arms as he walked over to stand in front of the desk. “I wasn't under the impression that you were interested in bonding with anyone when you ran off to investigate the keycard motive earlier.”
Kokichi was unperturbed by this, stretching his arms over his head as he made himself comfortable. “Oh, the keycard? Yeah, that thing was totes useless. I looked everywhere for something it would work on, but everything came up blank.”
Shuichi opened his mouth, ready to interject with the fact that Monokuma didn't seem the type to present them with a fake motive at this stage of the game, but Kokichi was already padding his lie. “Super sad about it. Would've made things a lot more fun if it had actually worked, don'tcha think, Mr. Detective?”
Shuichi studied him closely, the way his eyes drifted to look at something over his shoulder or toward a corner of the room. That ever-present, easy-going grin he wore as though he wasn't stringing Shuichi along through the dirt with every word.
“I think it's better if it doesn't work,” Shuichi responded quietly, his voice tight despite his determination to keep his own emotions veiled. “It'd only lead us into more trouble.”
Kokichi let out a pretend yawn. “Of course you'd think that.”
“I don’t think that,” Shuichi shot back with a bit more conviction. “I know that.”
“Whatevs, I didn't come here to talk about some dumb keycard anyway.” Kokichi sat up in the chair, thumping his feet back onto the floor as he scooted forward and rested his elbows on the desk. He looked up at Shuichi, beaming. And Shuichi was sure that if he wasn't already wise to the types of tricks Kokichi liked to play, he would've mistaken it for genuine enthusiasm.
“I came to spend time with my favourite detective!”
Shuichi gave him a flat, unimpressed look. Kokichi immediately pouted. “What? You don't believe me?”
He sighed, arms folding tighter across his chest as he tapped a finger absently against his sleeve. “It's hard to believe you'd suddenly want to start hanging out with people… especially after how you were acting earlier.”
“Can't a guy like me have a change of heart?” Kokichi asked, an eyebrow raised.
“Not without some ulterior motive, it seems.” Shuichi replied – sharper than he’d meant to.
Kokichi’s face fell. The grin disappeared, replaced by something fragile. “You seriously think that about me, Shuichi? That’s… That's just…!”
Shuichi’s jaw slackened when he saw it – the sudden water pooling at the corners of Kokichi's eyes. “If you really didn't want to hang out with me, you could have just told me to go away!” He spat angrily, voice rising and face flushing red with indignation.
They’re crocodile tears, he told himself, even as he felt his arms drop loosely to his sides and the confidence he’d managed to muster began ebbing away. He's just trying to get to you.
Even so, he tried to continue with the same determination he’d held a moment ago. “I mean, you do always seem to–” His words were cut off by a loud, theatrical wail of despair, one he was sure would echo down the halls and reach someone on this floor’s ears.
Reason abandoned him in an instant as he immediately began backtracking. “I-I didn't mean it like that!” Shuichi blurted in a panic, the cogs in his head grinding furiously as he scrambled to fix the damage. “Look, Kokichi, if you want to hang out, we can! We can definitely hang out!”
Kokichi had just started smearing the tears across his sleeve when he paused, looking up at Shuichi after performing an extremely obnoxious sniffle. All at once, his face flipped into a smile. “Really? Hooray!” He chimed, “So you're not totally heartless like I thought!”
You thought I was heartless? Shuichi's expression stayed locked in one of mild panic, but after a beat, he sighed – part relief, part resignation. Kokichi hopped out of the chair with all the chipperness of a kid who had just gotten exactly what they’d wanted.
Then the door clicked open.
Shuichi spun around so fast he nearly tripped over himself, flinging a hand back to clutch the desk for balance. When he finally fixed his gaze on the doorway, Miu Iruma's head had just poked itself inside.
Her eyes zeroed in on him with an irritable glint. “What the hell’s with all the noise in here, Shuichi? I can't investigate when you're in here wailing your pathetic, micro-dicked heart out.”
Shuichi opened and closed his mouth a few times like a fish out of water. He jerked his head over his shoulder to where Kokichi had hopped out of the chair a moment before.
Gone.
Shuichi blinked, staring at the empty space before sweeping his mystified gaze over the rest of the room. His head swerved left and right, but the Supreme Leader was nowhere. He could hear Miu make an agitated noise from the doorway. “Hey! Shuichi! Are you listening?!” She barked, “Look a girl in the eyes when she's scolding you. I told you to stop being so loud!”
Shuichi turned back to her, quickly trying to recollect himself. “Being loud? R-Right, sorry, I was just–”
“Eeek!” Miu suddenly squealed, clapping a hand over her mouth and pointing a finger at Shuichi with the other. Shuichi blinked at her, clearly lost.
“You were totally getting off in here a minute ago, weren't you?”
Shuichi felt his entire body lock up. “What? No!” He exclaimed, his face going bright red. If he thought the hoops he had to jump through to hold a regular conversation with Kokichi were difficult, Miu’s were on a whole other level of unnavigable. “Nothing like that, I was–”
“Of course!” She glazed over his rebuttal, “New floor investigation time? Ugh, that’s the perfect chance to squeeze in some private time – why didn't I think of that?”
“Miu, seriously, it’s nothing like that! I wasn’t–”
“Don't even try to deny it because I definitely heard you finish from halfway across the building just a second ago!” She recoiled and squirmed on the spot, seeming equally disgusted and oddly thrilled by the idea. “You’ve had that edgelord incel look since the moment I laid eyes on you!”
“What?!”
Her hand flew to the door knob. “At least keep it down so you don't turn on all the exhibitionists in this freak show!” And just like that, she slammed the door closed, leaving Shuichi in a mortified silence.
However, it only lasted for a few seconds because a soft bump to his shoulder nearly made his heart jump out of his chest all over again.
“She totally just works herself up with her own narratives, huh?” Kokichi commented slyly, pulling back the elbow he'd used to nudge Shuichi and folding his hands behind his head. “You didn't even get a word in.”
Shuichi just let out a trembling sigh, slumping against the mahogany desk in defeat. “She's planning on telling everyone that story, isn't she?”
“Absolutely. She’ll get off on all that attention.” Kokichi leaned against the desk as well, a far-too-amused grin plastered on his face.
“Sooooo?” Kokichi leaned forward, trying to catch Shuichi's gaze, though his own eyes were still glued to the door, as though expecting someone to barge in asking him if he was seriously slacking off during the investigation (and the tricky part was that they technically wouldn’t be wrong). “What do Detectives usually do in their fancy offices?”
Shuichi blinked a few times, his senses catching up with reality as he was made aware of what he'd agreed to prior to the interruption. “Right…” His eyes traced the room, lingering for a bit too long on the shelf lined with cases before landing on Kokichi beside him. The tears had vanished, and there were only light traces of red across his cheeks to suggest that he’d been crying at all.
“Uhm… I-I'm not exactly sure.” Shuichi admitted unhelpfully.
Kokichi folded his arms. “You don't know what a detective does in his office?”
Shuichi shook his head, “No, I mean – I'm not exactly sure what we should do.”
Kokichi rolled his eyes and groaned, lolling his head onto Shuichi’s shoulder dramatically. “Come on, you can't think of a single thing we can do?”
Shuichi exhaled softly, shrugging Kokichi off of him. “You're the one who said he wanted to hang out…”
There was a silence that seemed to last for a beat too long. Kokichi scanned his face, almost in perfect mimicry of how Shuichi had been doing to him since he’d first walked in.
Then Kokichi went for the throat. “For someone who’s helped everyone through three trials so far, you still seem pretty awkward about your whole Ultimate Detective title.”
Shuichi was taken aback, eventually averting his gaze entirely as the call out settled on him. He debated just denying it – bottling his apprehensions about it all once again… the growing pressure from everyone that he felt squeezing at his lungs. His very core.
Then he just wilted. His shoulders sagged, his chest tightened, and a bitter chuckle escaped his lips. “Is it that obvious?”
Another hushed beat.
“No. You’re a decent liar.”
He turned his head back just in time to see an unfamiliar expression pass over Kokichi’s features, but it was swiftly glossed over by a look of indifference. “Sometimes.”
Shuichi bowed his head pathetically, his grip on the edge of the desk tensing – an almost involuntary response at the idea alone. “It’s… a lot of pressure, I suppose.”
“Knowing that as soon as something happens, all eyes are on me to figure out what to do. Even with Kaito looking out for me and trying to take the lead, I can tell everyone is still expecting me to be the one to figure this out.”
“It all just leads me into thinking I’m not cut out for it.” Shuichi murmurs, his eyes drawn to the shelf of cases he couldn’t bring himself to read in full. “Being a detective, I mean.”
He wasn’t even sure why he was saying all this. Furthermore, to Kokichi of all people. Someone who, as far as he knew, would just use every confession against him when the time came. He certainly wouldn’t have been his first choice of classmate to vent to. But even so, he could tell Kokichi was listening, and he supposed that was all he needed at the moment. Even if it did come to haunt him down the line.
Halfway through Shuichi’s ramble, Kokichi had followed his gaze. “You just sound like a self-fulfilling prophecy to me.”
Shuichi stamped out his own wandering mind, eyes flitting back to him. “What do you mean?”
Kokichi’s eyes remained on the shelf. “You think you’re not cut out for it, so you freeze up, second-guess everything and then –” He made an explosion noise, “– you mess up enough to prove yourself right.”
Kokichi peered back over at him with a gaze that seemed to ask, ‘Am I wrong?’ with the most sarcastic air possible. Shuichi just remained silent, his thoughts swimming.
“But on the flip side,” Kokichi drawled, “I’ve seen you come into your own the second a killing happens. As soon as you break yourself out of your own empty head, you’re totally in your element – be it solving murders or school mysteries. And hey, everyone’s gonna make mistakes, even our beloved detective. Oops, move on.”
“You’re still one of the best shots they’ve got. The fact that it scares you so much is good. It means you care.”
Kokichi curled a brow as Shuichi looked at him, clearly dumbfounded by his genuineness. In response, a much more sinister smile crept onto the Supreme Leader’s face – the one that seemed to leave spiders creeping down the nape of Shuchi’s neck. “Besides, this killing game would be super boring if you of all people threw in the towel. Wouldn't want you to miss the next murder~”
But despite the antagonistic nature of his words, Shuichi could sense something else underneath them. He could tell there was something honest.
“... Thanks, I think.” He murmured, realising, to his own surprise, that the tension in his body had evaporated entirely now.
“But on the topic of all that Ultimate Detective pressure…” Kokichi announced suddenly, his tone shifting back to its usual air of mischief as he tore his gaze away from Shuichi. “How about I help you look through the rest of that pesky paperwork?”
In an instant, Kokichi had pushed himself away from the desk and had begun skipping towards the shelf. The second Shuichi registered his words, he threw himself forward in a panic.
“Ah, no! You really don't have to!” He yelped, quickly slipping past him and sliding between Kokichi and the shelf, slamming his back against it with a bit more force than he'd meant to. A few of the bottles on the topmost shelf that Maki had deduced to be poison quivered at the disruption.
Kokichi stopped in front of him, his expression going blank again. Then he pouted, “Why not?”
“I-I can handle looking through it myself.”
“Do you not trust me?” He blurted.
Shuichi swallowed. “No, that's not it…”
“Or is it just that you don't trust me with what's on that shelf?”
Both of them went quiet. They simply stared at one another, Shuichi's eyes filled with an aching dread and Kokichi’s with a look that told him he had this situation figured out from the very beginning. Despite the impossibility of it all, it felt as though Kokichi knew exactly what he was trying to preserve.
“I don't think it's a good idea to give anyone access to this shelf.” Shuichi said, noticing that his own voice had gone rather quiet.
“Oh, I completely agree!” Kokichi chuckled, “Everyone except for killer girl, the resident knucklehead, and whoever else you've got a bias towards, right?”
He spoke without any hint of malice in his words, but the way they settled on Shuichi made him feel like a snake's venom had just punctured his gut. Kokichi had an unsettling knack for flipping the atmosphere of a conversation on a dime.
Shuichi averted his gaze, eyebrows furrowing. “I know you're just trying to get in my head.”
“Get in your head?” Kokichi made a ‘tch’ sound, seeming genuinely irritated at the accusation. “After all I said? You're awfully paranoid for being one of the ones gloating about working together.”
“I'm just…” Shuichi tensed, his back pressing roughly against the shelf as Kokichi took a small step forward, a rattling sound from the top shelf unheard to him. “... being cautious.”
Kokichi stared up at Shuichi, eyes glinting with something Shuichi couldn't quite place. “You know I'm doing this for you, Shuichi. I meant everything I said, and I want to help you figure this out.”
Help me? The words echoed in his head as loud as a struck gong, watching Kokichi slowly raise a hand towards his upper arm. His breath caught. What does he mean he wants to–
He didn’t have the chance to finish that thought. The next few events played out so quickly that Shuichi barely had time to process what was going on until it was too late.
Kokichi’s hand suddenly darted out and pulled hard on his upper arm. The action sent him stumbling forward as Kokichi slid by him and ripped a few folders from the same shelf top Shuichi had been perusing when he'd first arrived. Shuichi steadied his footing with wide eyes, making to grab Kokichi’s wrist to stop him, but the Supreme Leader had already slipped by. He skilfully darted behind the detective’s desk and ducked out of sight.
Shuichi launched himself forward to try and catch up, but the sound of the lab door clicking once more made him skid to a halt and hit the desk knee first. His fingers waged a death grip against its surface as Kaito threw open the door, a pain spidering throughout his body like electricity.
“Hey! There you are, Shuichi!” Kaito’s voice boomed with a hand on his hip. He stepped into the room with a musing hum, leaving the door ajar. “Yeah, I thought I might find you here.”
Shuichi was frozen, still clutching the desk and feeling like he was on the verge of vomiting. “Oh, uhm- Kaito, did you need something?” He asked in the most casual voice he could muster.
“Just for you to show up at the dining hall in a few minutes,” Kaito replied, standing a bit taller. “Didn't manage to find that little gremlin, but I did find another flashback light. Regardless of his hiding space, he'll probably come high-tailing it once he realises we’ve got something he wants.”
Shuichi nodded in agreement, a bead of sweat tracing his forehead as he tried not to look over at the purple-haired boy snaking his way unseen around the perimeter of the room, using the couches as cover with the files tucked under his arm. “Yeah, that’s probably a good plan.”
Kaito beamed, “Well, you can thank Makiroll for that. We’ll get that keycard back in no time, even if we have to rip it out of his hands.”
Kokichi managed to slip past Kaito, who had already made the mistake of leaving a gap behind him. Shuichi swallowed as the Supreme Leader flashed one final look over his shoulder before dipping out of sight.
Shuichi shut his eyes and let out a shaky breath, one he knew Kaito would think was of comfort… though in reality it was one of complete and utter defeat. “Right… I see. I-I'll be there in a bit, then.”
“Course you will!” Kaito exclaimed, chuckling and placing a hand back on the doorknob. “Can't have a meeting without my sidekicks. Finish up your detectiving and I'll see you there.”
He weakly raised a hand as Kaito shut the door and left Shuichi in solitude once more… this time, an absolute one. He stood silently, his grip on the desk loosening as he teetered against it. Eventually, he slid down to the ground with a sigh, a hand in his hair and his aching knees to his chest.
And once again, Kokichi Oma, the Ultimate Supreme Leader, had flipped Shuichi's world on its head. He stared at the floorboards underneath him, fingers trailing circles against his scalp to soothe his frazzled mind and churning stomach.
For a moment, it had all seemed genuine. However small, it felt like some semblance of truth had finally slipped out. He’d thought Kokichi was finally being–
He tugged the word ‘sincere’ out of his thoughts and thumped the back of his head against the desk – but the only thing that accomplished was leaving him with an aching pain in two areas. He gloomily peered over so he could see the case shelf that now had a gap in its contents. How exactly was he supposed to explain to Maki that he'd let Kokichi get away with the files so easily? Saying I was tricked! Would probably only earn him a look of disappointment. Especially when he himself knew that if he had just told Kaito to turn around…
His thoughts slowed, his gaze trailing to the top of the shelf where the poisons had been, then to the files. A small bottle from the top had been placed on the edge next to the gap. That certainly hadn’t been there a second ago…
He reached a hand towards his upper arm, the place where Kokichi had grabbed him.
His memory, albeit slowly, fought through the fog that Kokichi had conjured. When Shuichi had pressed himself against the shelf, there had been a sound. Rattling. He’d disrupted the poisons. When Kokichi had pulled him away from the shelf, he had done it not only to grab the case files… but also to catch the bottle that had been about to fall on him.
Shuichi slowly pushed himself off the floor, dragging his feet over to the shelf and plucking the bottle from where Kokichi had set it down. For a moment, he simply rolled it in his hands, as though some label across its surface might reveal to him the enigmatic motives of the Supreme Leader.
Why he would feign indifference when the actions in between told him there were parts of Kokichi that cared. That was actually trying to help.
But it seemed as though Shuichi Saihara, the Ultimate Detective, would be left to figure that out on his own. With a stretch of his arm and a soft ‘clunk’, he returned the bottle to the top shelf and headed for the door.
Shuichi's eyes raked over the room from over his shoulder as he tugged on the knob. From the mahogany desk to the plants and oil paintings Kokichi had investigated. As the door clicked closed, he dissected his sole deduction in his mind.
Kokichi had entered the detective’s lab with the intention of finding out where the keycard went. The case files were simply a takeaway prize – something to help him throw things into further disarray. But why he'd stayed for so long after coming up empty instead of cutting his losses and snatching the files when he first had the chance was something Shuichi had no clear answer to.
And he supposed that was the way it always was with him. Try as he might, he knew it would take a hundred battles like this one to truly even begin to understand Kokichi Oma.
The Detective's lab was quiet, and the killing game resumed.