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The way back to his apartment is blocked.
Kokichi holds back a heavy sigh as he tucks himself back behind the brick wall he’s been using as a shield, hiding himself from the rambunctious crowd just a few feet away. As he readjusts his hood so it hides his purple hair a touch better, he curses himself for his bad timing.
All he wanted to do was pick up some ingredients for dinner. Well, maybe claiming he was picking up ingredients is putting it generously; he left the convenience store with a paper bag full of cups of instant ramen—all the same flavour. Zoning out and taking his time to meticulously pick different flavours isn’t a luxury he has nowadays. Kokichi prefers to spend as little time as possible out in public, so if that means swiping a tray of the same flavoured ramen into his basket and hightailing it to the checkout so he can pay as quickly as he can, so be it.
He thought his disguise was perfect today, too. His dark, oversized hoodie swamps him, disguising his lithe figure. The baseball cap he’s got on hides most of his distinct, purple hair—his hood is also pulled up for extra security. The top half of his face is obscured by a pair of sunglasses, whilst his bottom half is tucked behind a generic, pale facemask.
Kokichi has no idea how someone managed to figure out his identity. One minute he was walking home as fast as he could—which wasn’t impressively fast, considering his poor health. The next minute, he heard someone shout his name. A finger was pointed in his direction, and Kokichi knew he needed to find somewhere to hide as soon as possible before he was swarmed.
The alleyway he ended up in isn’t too bad—at least it doesn’t smell. The alleyway he had to hide in a couple days ago had reeked; all the bins were overflowing, so none of them were able to shut fully, allowing a heavy, invasive smell of something rotten to dominate the alleyway. Easy to say that had not been a pleasant experience.
No, this alleyway is much cleaner. The bins are all, thankfully, shut, and are lined up neatly in a row. There’s a set of metal stairs attached to the side of the building, which Kokichi is currently contemplating climbing up. He chews his lip as he weighs up the pros and cons.
If he uses them and escapes this hellish situation, then that, of course, would be a huge win. However, he also runs the risk of being spotted. The higher up he goes, the more likely he’s going to be seen. Whilst his disguise is decent, he’s pretty sure everyone knows what he’s wearing, so if even just one person sees him sprinting up the stairs in his dark hoodie, sunglasses and facemask, they’re going to cause a commotion—and that’s the last thing he wants.
This time Kokichi doesn’t hold back his heavy sigh, deflating as he slumps heavily against the brick wall. His legs are starting to protest, not liking that they've been standing for too long. Perhaps he should sit down. The floor doesn’t look overly dirty. Ah, but maybe sitting down would be a mistake. He needs to be ready to run at any time.
Seriously, what a pain.
Kokichi is deep in thought as he contemplates his next move. So deep in thought, in fact, that he doesn’t hear someone approach him from behind. A hand touches his shoulder, causing him to violently flinch. Kokichi finally notices that there’s a large shadow looming over him. He snaps his head up, wanting to check out his competition so he can gauge the best way to get out of his next disaster.
“Ah, I thought it was you.”
It takes only a moment for Kokichi to identify the owner of the deep voice. Immediately, he allows himself to relax, his shoulders slouching.
“Fancy seeing you here, Momota,” Kokichi chirps—quietly, of course. He does not want to reveal his hiding place, thank you very much.
Kokichi’s face scrunches as he tries to remember the last time he saw Kaito. They had both left Team Danganronpa’s care at similar times, just a day apart. Kokichi, to his frustration, had been the last person to be discharged. Turns out being crushed into an unidentifiable mess isn’t a recommended way to die. Because of his complicated death inside the simulation, it had taken Kokichi a while to wake up, his consciousness struggling to navigate its way back to his actual body.
For some weird reason, Kaito had been the first person Kokichi saw after waking up. Turns out the astronaut—ah, wait, that’s inaccurate; Kaito is no longer the Ultimate Astronaut now that he’s in the real world, just like how Kokichi is no longer the Ultimate Supreme Leader, thank goodness—had decided to remain by his side until he woke up. Kokichi still can’t figure out why Kaito did that. Probably out of guilt, knowing Kaito.
They both recovered together, which was sort of awkward, especially since Kokichi didn’t say a single word whilst under Team Danganronpa’s care. Kokichi is pretty certain the only reason why they discharged him was because they needed to direct their attention to planning season 54 of Danganronpa.
How exciting. Not.
As luck would have it, he and Kaito ended up living rather close to each other. They don’t live in the same building, but Kokichi knows Kaito lives in an apartment nearby. Kaito provided that information to him when he had knocked on Kokichi’s door one random day, asking him if he wanted to catch up one day, or something like that—oh, but only if that’s what Kokichi wants, no pressure or anything like that.
Kokichi finds himself smiling wryly to himself as he recalls Kaito’s flustered face, grateful that he’s wearing a mask. It’s no secret that Kaito feels bad about what happened in the simulation—in the hangar. Their shared, traumatising experience altered their relationship, and definitely changed Kaito as a person.
Before the events that happened inside the hangar, Kaito was a loud, proud person. He was able to tell Kokichi to his face that he’s a despicable person. Now, Kaito can barely look him in the eye and no longer has the heart to loudly point out all of Kokichi’s flaws.
Kokichi isn’t sure if he finds Kaito disappointing or boring nowadays. He certainly doesn’t hold a grudge over Kaito killing him; he was the one who blackmailed Kaito, after all. If Kaito were to suddenly start bickering with him, well, Kokichi wouldn’t mind that, actually.
Ah, now certainly isn’t the time for reminiscing. What was he trying to remember? Oh, that’s right: the last time he saw Kaito. It must’ve been a few weeks back, maybe even months. Time is a blur nowadays, so being accurate isn’t Kokichi’s strongest strength. Kokichi remembers spying Kaito from the corner of his eye, entering the same convenience store as him. They had both ended up in the same aisle, briefly acknowledged each other, before leaving before anyone could figure out their identities.
Kaito hasn’t changed much since the last time Kokichi saw him. Like Kokichi, it’s clear Kaito has dressed to blend into the busy crowds. Kaito’s hoodie isn’t as baggy on him—but then again, Kaito looks like he’s been taking care of himself, so of course his clothes fit him properly. Kokichi can tell that Kaito’s hoodie is hiding well maintained muscles.
For some stupid reason, Kaito isn’t wearing a hat; how he hasn’t been spotted yet is nothing short of a miracle. Kaito’s hair, while no longer defying gravity, still sticks up a little. Hmm, he must’ve either run out of hair spray, or is going for a new look. Kokichi holds his chin as he examines Kaito’s hair through narrowed eyes, causing Kaito to raise an eyebrow. Huh, it’s not that bad—kinda suits him, actually. Makes Kaito stand out less, anyway.
Kaito’s face mask is currently tucked under his chin. He was probably wearing it properly before he spotted Kokichi. Kokichi supposes he’s glad Kaito lowered it before talking to him; if he hadn’t, Kokichi probably would’ve taken longer to recognise his old partner in crime.
Something woody invades Kokichi’s nostrils. He pauses, lowering his mask so he can smell the air properly. Sandalwood, perhaps? And it’s emanating from Kaito, too. At least it smells nicer than the scent of blood that used to cling to the astronaut.
Kaito pulls a face as Kokichi readjusts his mask once more, concealing his face. “You, uh, okay?” Kaito then pokes his head out of the alleyway. He cringes. “Ah. It’s always a pain when someone recognises you, huh?”
Kokichi hums, leaning a little more of his weight against the brick wall. His legs are no longer protesting now; they’re full-on rioting. “It’s kind of pathetic that they still adore me this much. It’s been what, a few months now since our season ended? Don’t they have literally anything else better to do than hound poor ol’ me?”
Kaito offers Kokichi a tight smile, which fades once he takes a proper look at Kokichi. “Seriously, are you okay? Where are your walking sticks?”
“None of your business,” Kokichi answers, his mood taking an instant nosedive. He pictures his walking sticks, which he purposely left at home for several reasons. Firstly, he doesn’t like using them. Secondly, some annoying fangirl spotted him using them, so now all his stupid fans know to keep an eye out for a pair of walking sticks when hunting him down. Thirdly, he foolishly assumed his trip out was going to be a short one. If he had known he was going to end up trapped in an alleyway, he would’ve at least brought his fold up ones, which he could’ve kept somewhat concealed until needed.
“Ouma,” Kaito sighs. He stares down hard at the ground, deep in thought, before clearing his throat. “I don’t think they’re gonna leave any time soon. Your way home is blocked, but mine…” Kaito scratches behind his head. “If you want, you can stay at mine for a while.”
Whilst Kokichi knows where Kaito lives, he’s never actually been inside Kaito’s apartment before. In fact, Kokichi has never had any intention of visiting Kaito’s apartment—until now. Kaito’s offer, to Kokichi’s irritation, is a tempting one. An extremely tempting one, actually. Kokichi’s legs can only protest for so long; soon, they’re going to give up altogether. And of course Kokichi doesn’t want to end up stranded for hours in some random alleyway, even though it is a decent alleyway…
Maybe Kaito has also noticed Kokichi can’t stand for much longer. Kokichi catches Kaito frowning at his legs. When their eyes meet, Kaito flushes before snapping his head in the opposite direction.
All Kokichi wants to do right now is get home and collapse into bed. However, he isn’t stupid; he knows that isn’t an option—and it’s not going to be an option for a very long time. Kokichi sneaks one final glance at the crowd of people blocking his way home. Seriously, his fans suck. Being a celebrity really isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be. If he could, Kokichi would trade his celebrity status for privacy in a heartbeat.
“Okay,” Kokichi agrees, catching Kaito by surprise. He tightens his grip around his paper bag, which crinkles under the added weight. “Lead the way, spaceman.”
“Really?” Kaito responds, before wisely wiping the dumbstruck look off his face before Kokichi can comment on it. Kokichi feels almost nostalgic when a somewhat heroic grin grows on Kaito’s face, excitement lighting up the astronaut’s eyes. “C’mon, follow me. I know a shortcut!”
Kaito heads down another alleyway, and Kokichi tries his best to keep up. Kokichi uses the brick walls as a crutch as he follows Kaito, who remains cautious as he presses forward. Kaito leads him down a series of alleyways, pausing at the end of each one to check if the coast is clear. Kokichi follows wordlessly, sweat building up along his forehead.
Just as he’s about to swallow his pride and call out for Kaito to slow down, the astronaut comes to an abrupt stop—so abrupt, that Kokichi almost crashes into his back. Kaito looks over his shoulder with a sheepish smile. He doesn’t say anything, but Kokichi can tell an apology is sitting on the tip of Kaito’s tongue.
“We’re almost there,” Kaito tells him instead. He points at a tall building that is nearby. Unfortunately, Kaito’s finger is pointing at the upper half of the building, and not the bottom.
Kokichi’s stomach swoops when they finally reach the end of the last alleyway. He braces himself, preparing himself for the worst. However, when he steps out onto the street, he’s greeted by a pleasant sight. The street is mostly empty, with only a few people waiting in a line by a food stall. No one pays any attention to them, which is a relief. Kokichi lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he relaxes.
He doesn’t think he’s been down this particular street before. Then again, he rarely leaves his house, so it doesn’t surprise him much that he doesn’t recognise where he is, even though it’s rather close to his apartment. If he could, Kokichi would love to stay in his apartment forever, but alas, if he did that he would starve—and if Team Danganronpa ever found out he’s not looking after himself properly, he’ll end up back in their care again, and he really, really doesn’t want that.
Stupid contract that he doesn’t even remember signing. It’s not his fault that a different version of himself agreed to all the terms and conditions.
Kokichi feels like his legs have been swapped with boulders by the time they reach the building Kaito had pointed at earlier. Even though it’s rather cool outside, Kokichi feels like a sweaty mess. He’s confident that under his face mask and sunglasses, his face is bright red.
Kaito grimaces when he checks over his shoulder. “Do you need to take a break?”
“What floor do you live on?”
“The, ah, top one.”
Kokichi wrinkles his nose. Of course Kaito does—probably picked to live so high up so he’s closer to his beloved stars. “We better get moving, then.”
“Are you sure? Look, it’s not that busy, so if you want to take a break—”
“Do I want to take a break? Nope!” Kokichi shoves past Kaito, heading to the slim, metal staircase that’ll take him up to the next floor.
Before Kokichi can climb the first step, however, a warm hand grabs his wrist. “Quit being so stubborn, will ya? Sit down before you hurt yourself.”
Kaito plops down on a step, dragging Kokichi down with him. The step is uncomfortable, but his legs calm down the moment they no longer have to carry his weight, so Kokichi supposes the slight discomfort is worth it. He closes his eyes as he attempts to gather himself.
A cold breeze whips his arms, easily slipping past his cheap jacket’s defenses. It actually feels quite nice. Kokichi feels like he’s burning all over. His legs are protesting the loudest—they always do—but his lungs are also grumbling, tight inside his chest. Kokichi gulps in a breath of air, trying his best to be quiet but, well, gulping in air isn’t the quietest thing to do.
Next to him, Kaito breathes in air more quietly—through his nose and out his mouth like a normal person. Not like Kokichi, who is breathing like he’s just run a marathon. Kaito, however, doesn’t comment on Kokichi’s laboured breathing, which is nice of him, Kokichi supposes.
The thing is, Kokichi doesn’t really know how to respond to being treated nicely. And on top of that, he’s not used to Kaito’s kindness. The last—and now that Kokichi thinks about it, the first—time Kaito was kind to him had been when he’d picked him up off the ground inside the hangar. Kokichi had collapsed after pausing the camera, and couldn’t make his way over to the hydraulic press—his grave. So Kaito, even though he was ill and actively dying himself, had picked him up and carried him over to it himself.
It was rather thoughtful of him. Kaito had even gone out of his way to brush away a loose strand of hair out of Kokichi’s eyes. Because he had done that, Kokichi was granted the perfect view of the pressing plate just mere inches away from his face.
Kokichi could lie and say it hadn’t bothered him, but it had.
Oh well.
As Kokichi slowly cools down, he wonders how often Kaito thinks about the hangar. Probably a lot, considering how considerate Kaito is acting. Kaito used to be good at masking his feelings—his pain caused by his illness. Now, though? Kokichi can tell Kaito is drowning in guilt, that he’s still haunted by the hangar.
Kokichi sneaks a glance at the astronaut. How much is his presence distressing Kaito? Kaito looks calm, but his leg keeps bouncing. Kokichi wonders if he wasn’t here, would Kaito be calmer right now?
The thing is, Kokichi can’t help but feel kind of bad for the guy. The hangar is the first thing everyone thinks of when they think of Kaito—and probably Kokichi, too. After their season had ended, the two of them were forced to do an interview. The first thing they were asked about was the hangar. What was the question Kaito was asked again? Oh yeah.
“How did you feel after killing Ouma? You must’ve felt a lot of relief, right? You thought you'd finally killed the antagonist, after all.”
To Kokichi, the question felt insensitive, especially considering he was sitting right next to Kaito when the question had been asked. To Kaito, judging by how fast his expression had fallen after hearing it, the question must’ve felt like a punch to the gut.
Kokichi lets out a loud sigh, cupping his face in his hands. Ah, what a pain. He wouldn’t be having these thoughts if that fan of his hadn’t spotted him earlier. How annoying.
“You, uh, good?” Kaito asks, far too meekly for Kokichi’s liking. Seriously, why did Kaito have to lose his backbone? Kokichi really doesn’t like this nervous version of Kaito. Kaito was much more fun to be around when he’d actually react to things.
Then again, Kokichi supposes he can’t criticise Kaito too much; he’s changed a lot too. Kokichi is well aware that he's become something that he never thought he’d become: boring.
Strangely enough, though, this isn’t something he thinks he’ll change any time soon.
See, the first thing people think of when they think about Kokichi is the hangar. The second thing they’ll think about is his playful attitude. Kokichi Ouma is a prankster, after all. Well, Kokichi is proud to announce that he’s turned that ‘is’ into a ‘was’. He has no intention to entertain a world that sat back and revelled in his suffering.
He’s played his part—he just wants his privacy now.
Kokichi steals a secret glance at Kaito, who is currently rubbing his hands together. The tips of the astronaut’s fingers are red—no doubt cold to the touch. Kokichi rolls his eyes and pulls himself up, ignoring his legs cries of dismay.
“Eh? You’re finished already?” Kaito copies Kokichi, easily pulling himself up without using the handrailing.
Kokichi nods, and pretends that he’s leaning against the wall to look cool instead of using it as a crutch. Kaito doesn’t raise an eyebrow, so Kokichi assumes Kaito is none-the-wiser. “Yep, I’m finished with waiting for you to finish resting! You’re lucky that I let you sit down for this long!”
Kaito looks like he’s about to argue, and Kokichi finds himself waiting in anticipation, almost willing for Kaito to retort heatedly—but he doesn’t. Instead, Kaito lets out an amused huff and says, “Then let’s get going.”
Kokichi fights to place one foot in front of the other as they both climb several flights of stairs. An ugly feeling surfaces as he watches Kaito effortlessly lift his feet and climb up the stairs without so much as breaking a sweat. Kokichi forces the feeling down, identifying it as something akin to jealousy. It seems Kaito’s illness is no longer bothering him.
And if it is, Kaito is doing an excellent job hiding it.
Pride motivates Kokichi to climb up the stairs. Once they finally reach the top floor, Kokichi drops his hands to his knees as he tries to catch his breath, tightening his grip even further on his paper bag.
“Here, I’ll take that,” Kaito says, taking the paper bag from him before Kokichi can even protest. To Kokichi’s dismay, Kaito takes a peek inside the paper bag, and the astronaut pulls a face at the contents. “Don’t tell me that this is all you eat?”
Kokichi tries to shrug. “It’s convenient.”
“It’s not enough,” Kaito counters, his expression borderline offended as he scrunches the bag back shut. “You’re skinny enough as it is. You need to be eating proper meals! When was the last time you actually cooked something for yourself?”
Ah, now that is certainly a thought-provoking question. Kokichi stares blankly up at the sky as he rewinds his memories. He can’t really remember a time where he’s spent longer than five minutes in his kitchen. The most he’s done in terms of cooking is boil water. However, Kokichi gets the feeling that if he tells Kaito that, he might combust.
Kokichi decides he’s feeling rather merciful, so he doesn’t give Kaito the choice to spontaneously combust. Instead, Kokichi remembers that silence is always an option, and marches on ahead, leaving Kaito to stare at his back incredulously.
“H-Hey, do you even know where you’re going?!”
Kaito catches up to him effortlessly—defintely because of his long legs and not because of a different other reason Kokichi refuses to acknowledge. To Kokichi’s surprise, Kaito doesn’t forge ahead. Instead, he walks side by side with Kokichi, like they’re casually walking home together.
But they’re not walking home together; they’re walking to Kaito’s apartment—and Kokichi has forgotten which number Kaito lives at. Kaito stops halfway down the line of doors, and hides a smirk when Kokichi almost continues trudging down the hallway. Kokichi, however, notices the smirk before it’s hidden, and he finds himself feeling almost excited.
Kaito opens the door for him, and Kokichi has no choice but to head inside first so he doesn’t make things awkward—which is a tempting option, actually. But alas, Kokichi’s legs do not want Kokichi to indulge in teasing Kaito, and are all but demanding another break even though they literally had one a couple minutes ago.
Kaito’s apartment is nice—cosy. There are plant pots lining most of the window sills, all of them bursting with life. Kokichi can’t name a single plant, but can see how well looked after they appear. Kaito must have a green thumb.
Kokichi spots the usual pieces of furniture scattered around. A cosy, cream coloured couch is in the centre of the room, a purple throw laid over the back of it. There are mix-matched cushions on the couch: one blue, one red and two different shades of purple.
In front of the couch is a coffee table, which is housing several textbooks. Upon closer inspection, the textbooks are space related, which both surprises and doesn’t surprise Kokichi at the same time. Considering how Kaito died, Kokichi is surprised Kaito still even wants to think about space. The coffee table also has some stained rings on it—Kaito really should invest in some coasters.
As Kokichi flops down on the couch, he catches a brief glimpse of his reflection trapped inside the TV opposite the couch. Ah, he almost forgot that he’s still wearing his disguise. He pulls his mask and sunglasses off, dropping them carelessly down on the coffee table.
Kaito’s couch, Kokichi swiftly discovers, is pleasantly comfortable—so comfortable, in fact, that Kokichi finds his eyes closing, like he’s fallen under a spell. Distantly he hears Kaito call from the entrance: “Make yourself at… home?”
Kokichi hears Kaito’s footsteps stop in front of the couch. He cracks open an eye, and is surprised to spot a strangely concerned look on Kaito’s face.
“What?” Kokichi challenges, pursing his lips.
“Nothing,” Kaito responds, obviously lying. He averts his gaze, his concern melting into contemplation. The astronaut pauses, as if deep in thought, before saying, “You can take a nap, if you want. I have something I need to do anyway.”
“Hmm. I can’t tell if you're being a considerate or inconsiderate host. Shouldn’t you be entertaining me?”
A ghost of a smile appears on Kaito’s lips. “You’re more than capable of keeping yourself entertained. Besides, you look like you’re ready to nod off at any moment.”
“Sheesh, way to make me sound like I’m old. Did you forget we’re the same age?”
“I’m older, actually,” Kaito proudly points out, the corners of his lips lifting into a smirk.
Kokichi narrows his eyes. “Only by a few months, grandpa.”
With a victorious snort, Kaito leaves, still holding Kokichi’s paper bag. Kokichi huffs loudly in response, crossing his arms. He sinks further into the couch and closes his eyes once more.
Kaito’s footsteps are clear as day as he heads to what Kokichi assumes is the kitchen area, which Kokichi didn’t even bother to check out before claiming the couch as his own. He listens as Kaito places Kokichi’s paper bag down on a counter. Then, Kaito must suddenly have an epiphany and decide that his life’s purpose is to make as much noise as possible, because Kokichi hears a series of cupboards opening and closing, pots and pans clattering together, draws flying open, and the continuous sound of rummaging.
Kokichi opens his mouth, before pausing. Does he really want to open the can of worms that is asking Kaito what on earth he’s doing?
Silently, Kokichi shuts his mouth, and Kaito and his clattering eventually becomes background noise. Kokichi finds himself thinking that he really should open his eyes before he falls asleep, but, ugh, that seems like too mammoth of a task to tackle right now.
Kokichi ends up dozing on Kaito’s couch, slipping in and out of consciousness as he fights to stay awake. The sounds coming from the kitchen are distant now, like Kaito and his kitchen have been thrown far away. As Kokichi continues his battle, he briefly wonders if he’s being rude right now. Do guests usually fall asleep on their host’s couch as soon as they arrive?
Probably not—but Kaito had told him to rest, so…
Eventually, despite his best efforts, Kokichi falls into a dreamless slumber. He’s not sure how much time has passed when he slowly regains his senses one by one. The first sense that properly awakens is his sense of smell. Kokichi’s mouth begins to water without his permission as the smell of something warm and rich invades his nostrils.
He’s so distracted by the smell, he misses Kaito’s footsteps getting closer. A hand clasps his shoulder, jolting him awake. Kokichi snaps his eyes open, caught off guard. In front of him, Kaito retracts his hand, his eyes wide and his mouth a surprised circle.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Kaito says. “I’ve made dinner. I thought I’d wake you so you can eat it whilst it’s still warm, because food tastes better when it’s still hot, right? So…” Kaito pauses, catching himself before he continues to ramble. “Anyway, dinner’s ready.”
Kokichi swears Kaito’s cheeks are pink as he hurriedly turns away and stomps over to the kitchen. Kokichi stands up, once again indulging in the smell of freshly made food as he waits for his legs to wake up. He slowly makes his way to the kitchen, which is easy to find since it’s connected to the living room—seperated by a kitchen counter.
There’s a small, wooden table by the counter, which Kaito is already sitting at. On the table are two bowls, one on either side—but both hosting the same meal. Kokichi watches as steam rises enticingly from the bowls, as is inviting him to take a closer look.
So, of course, he does, because Kokichi might be rude to people, but he is not rude to food. He sits down opposite Kaito and sneaks a peek at the contents of the bowl, aware that Kaito is watching him expectantly, like he’s waiting for Kokichi’s approval.
It seems Kaito decided to make ramen, which is something Kokichi eats frequently. Kokichi, however, never goes out of his way to make home-cooked ramen, always opting for quick and easy instant ramen, which he intimately knows tastes as plain as it looks. The bowl of ramen in front of him is colourful. A generous portion of noodles is relaxing in a pool of clear broth. Resting on top of the noodles are several pieces of different food. On one side of the bowl is a soft boiled egg, glistening gold on the inside and perfectly pale on the outside. On the opposite side, toppled like dominoes, are several pieces of pork. Finally, to tie everything together, chopped green onion has been sprinkled around the centre.
Kokichi isn’t a chef, and doesn’t know the first thing when it comes to cooking, but he knows what he’s looking at is a meal made with care—passion, even. He almost forgets that Kaito is silently waiting for his approval. Kokichi begrudgingly tears his eyes away from the masterpiece in front of him so he can look at Kaito.
“What’s with the nervous look, hmm?” Kokichi picks up the pair of chopsticks Kaito left by the bowl of ramen for him. Kokichi sighs as he picks up a piece of pork, giving it a slight squeeze. “When did you start caring about my opinion?”
Kaito blinks, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. “I, uh, just wanted to know if this is okay. If you don’t like this, I can always make—”
Kokichi shoves the piece of pork into his mouth in response, causing Kaito to snap his mouth shut. Kokichi chews the pork slowly, savouring its taste. After he’s finished, he lets out a sigh. “Does that answer your question?”
“If you’re happy, then I’ll eat mine now too.”
Kokichi masks his pout by shoving another heapful of food into his mouth. After he swallows, he asks, “Do you still feel guilty about killing me?”
Kaito chokes on his next mouthful. Wordlessly, Kokichi pours Kaito a cup of water, using the jug and cups Kaito must’ve laid out earlier. Kaito takes the cup desperately and chugs like his life depends on it. Once he’s finished, he retorts, his voice hoarse, “Y-You can’t just ask something like that with no warning!”
“Whoops. Well, what’s done is done, hmm?” As much as Kokichi wants to tuck in, he’s curious about Kaito’s answer. “So, do you?”
“What do you think?” Kaito responds, finally losing some of his patience.
“You’ve changed,” Kokichi answers, causing Kaito to raise an eyebrow. Kokichi sighs, knowing he has no choice but to elaborate. “You’ve become cautious. Do you treat everyone else like they’re made of glass, or just me?”
Kaito stares at him, his jaw clenched, tapping his finger against the tabletop as he thinks. “You’ve changed too, you know? A lot, actually.”
Kokichi cocks his head to the side, intrigued. “Oh?”
“You’re… smaller,” Kaito tells him, causing Kokichi to huff. “I don’t mean literally. Well…” Kaito looks Kokichi up and down, dissatisfied. “You’ve lost weight, haven’t you? It’s obvious you’ve stopped taking care of yourself properly. The Ouma I knew had much more pride.”
“And the Momota I knew didn’t hold back on his opinion,” Kokichi counters. “The Momota I knew wasn’t boring.”
A heavy silence threatens to smother them both. Kaito frowns, a deep crease between his brows. It takes Kokichi all of his willpower not to rub it away with his thumb. “I think I’m not the only one who has been affected by what happened in the hangar,” Kaito finally says.
“What happened wasn’t good,” Kokichi vaguely agrees.
Kaito rolls his eyes, but persists. “You could’ve saved yourself and forced me inside the hydraulic press, but instead you picked to be crushed. You never told me why you made that decision.”
“I thought the answer was obvious,” Kokichi says. “If the class trial hadn't gone my way and I had to reveal myself, Harukawa would’ve killed me on the spot—regardless of how much of the truth Saihara had uncovered. You were the safer option, so I prioritised your survival over mine.”
“Harukawa wouldn’t have…” Kaito cringes, looking like he has just licked a lemon. “Still, having the guts to follow through with your plan… I mean, being crushed alive…”
It’s something that Kokichi has a lot of nightmares about, but that is something Kaito doesn’t need to know. The pressing plate had lowered slowly, and there had been a few seconds of agony—of indescribable pain—before the pain came to an abrupt halt altogether. When Kokichi had first woken up, his entire body had hurt. Nowadays, it’s mostly his legs that bother him; sometimes his lungs too.
“You’ve changed,” Kaito repeats, his voice solemn. “Treating you like how I did before I… before I killed you—it wouldn’t feel right. It wouldn’t be right.”
“You’re being strangely honest.”
“You’re the liar, not me,” Kaito responds.
Kokichi hums. “Ah, but you’ve more than proved that you’re a capable liar, right?”
“The difference between us is that I can lie, but you’re a liar,” Kaito tells him. “Just because I can lie doesn’t mean I like lying.”
“So you think I like lying, hmm?”
Kaito pauses, confusion written all over his face. It’s sort of endearing, actually. At least he’s taking the time to think before responding. “Don’t you?”
“I’m guessing you didn’t take to heart what I said in the hangar, then,” Kokichi says, rolling his eyes when Kaito continues to look confused. “I wasn’t lying when I said I had to lie to myself to survive. I lied to myself every day, telling myself the game was fun so I didn’t completely lose it.”
Not even the therapists that Team Danganronpa ordered Kokichi to see were able to pry this truth out of him. However, Kokichi isn’t speaking to a therapist; he’s talking to Kaito.
Still, it does sting a little to think that Kaito thought his final words were a lie. Well, actions do have consequences, and Kokichi certainly lied a lot during the killing game. It’s no wonder Kaito couldn’t take him seriously.
“Oh,” Kaito murmurs, sounding well and truly devastated.
“You thought I was lying, huh?” Kokichi shrugs and nonchalantly returns to his ramen. “Don’t beat yourself up too much about it. I’m an excellent liar, after all. The fact you couldn’t figure out I was telling the truth just shows how amazing I—”
“Even if it was a lie, I should’ve taken you more seriously,” Kaito responds, his voice an explosion. He grits his teeth. “I should’ve been more thoughtful. But instead, I assumed the worst, and you died thinking no one cared about you, right?”
Kokichi jolts so badly, he drops his chopsticks into his ramen. He fishes them out quickly before they can drown. Across from him, Kaito is rapidly turning pale. “Turns out I was wrong about you, spaceman; you’re still as blunt as ever.”
“That came out wrong—”
“Did it?” Kokichi pokes at a piece of pork, disappointed to find that he’s rapidly losing his appetite. “You’re not wrong. Considering what I did, it’s no wonder no one cared about me in the end—”
“That’s wrong!” Kaito slams his hands down onto the table, causing the bowls and ramen to rattle. Kokichi wraps his hands around his, making sure nothing spills. “I mean, you weren’t my favourite person. In fact, you were probably my least favourite person back then. But… killing you wasn’t something I enjoyed doing. Being alone in the hangar after I killed you… it was the worst experience of my life. You were gone, but you were also right there—and I spent all night just staring at what I turned you into.”
Kaito’s eyes grow distant, like he’s looking at something only he can see. Kokichi frowns. He wavers before reaching forward and grabbing Kaito’s hand, causing the astronaut to startle. Kaito stares at their linked hands, bewildered.
“I really thought you hated me,” Kokichi admits, keeping his voice quiet as if he’s telling a secret. “After you voted for me after the fourth class trial, I thought you didn’t care if I survived or not. So I assumed you’d be okay with…” He clears his throat. “Geez, I seriously jumped to the wrong conclusion, huh? Whoopsie! My bad.”
Kaito settles back down into his seat. Sheepishly, he pulls his hand away. “Voting for you was a mistake. If enough people had had the same idea as me…”
“But they didn’t,” Kokichi says. “And we’re both alive, so shouldn’t we just leave the past in the past, where it belongs?”
“You say that like it's an easy thing to do,” Kaito sighs. “Not all of us can bottle up our feelings and forget they exist.”
“...It’s not like I don’t think about the hangar,” Kokichi grumbles, kicking the floor under the table. “Why do you think I was hiding from all those fans earlier? No doubt at least one of them would’ve asked me about what actually happened.”
“They try to get me to tell them what happened whilst the cameras were down too,” Kaito tells him. “It actually pisses me off, thinking they’re entitled to know everything.”
Kokichi hums in response, smiling. Ah, there’s the old Kaito slipping through the cracks. “I think we’ve done enough talking for now, don’t you? We should eat before our food gets cold.”
Kaito nods in agreement. “I bet this is the first home-cooked meal you’ve had in a long time, right?”
“I think the last time I ate a home-cooked meal was when Tojo was still alive and made our food for us.”
“T-That long? Seriously?”
Kokichi tucks into his food, his appetite coming back to him after tasting the broth. It coats his tongue in a deep, rich flavour, and leaves his stomach feeling warm after swallowing it. Eating the broth is like being embraced—specifically by someone who wants Kokichi to know that they care about him.
“You should really stop buying those instant ramens, by the way,” Kaito suddenly says, scrunching his nose. “It’s not that hard to make something like this, and it’s much healthier. Seriously, you need to start taking better care of yourself. No wonder you have bags under your eyes. If all you’ve been eating is instant ramen—”
“Yes, yes, you’ve made your point,” Kokichi intervenes. He purposely slurps his last mouthful of broth as loud as he can before tilting his empty bowl in Kaito’s direction. “Anyway, can I have seconds?”
Kaito stares at him incredulously before sighing. “Fine, just give me a second.”
They’ve both changed, and right now Kokichi can’t figure out if that’s a good or a bad thing. But what he has figured out, however, is that if he keeps poking, the Kaito he knows occasionally resurfaces.
Kokichi is confident he’ll be able to lure Kaito back out of his shell one day, just like he knows Kaito will lure him out of his own.