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The hospital bed’s mattress is thin and he can feel the springs grinding against his back, trying to erode him away. It’s like it’s trying to undo the knots in his muscles which feels nice for a moment but the longer he stays down, the more it pushes in against him. The metal structure squeaks like old machinery, it could do with a good grease, Kaito’s tempted to check it for rust, could imagine it growing up the sides like ivy.
The blanket is threadbare and light as he drags it up, white fabric turning grey with time until it gets worn out beyond repair. He glances at the underside and finds a string of faded brown stains, they must have flipped it over and hoped no one would notice. It’s unsettling, laying in a bed thick with history, how many people have lain here, coughing out their lungs, hearts slowing and dropping off, knowing they’re beyond saving and the people who haven’t given up yet?
Kaito really does hate hospitals.
His head is screaming with protest at every slight movement of his body, the smell of antiseptics seeping through his skull and smashing craters into his brain, dizzying his eyes and making the world twist and turn around him, dancing like a ballerina. He can feel his heartbeat in the sides of his head, his neck, his chest and his wrists, painful proof that he’s alive which he welcomes with a groan that’s too loud even to his own ears and a curse muttered under his breath.
He shoves his bangs out of his face, pushing it back into the rest of his hair, his fingers getting caught in knots and tugging at his scalp like needles as he tries to pull himself up with his free arm. He’s mutely surprised no nurse has been by yet; in his childhood he’d always remembered them showing up the second he spared them a thought, he used to have a suspicion that all nurses could read minds but it seems to be slowly being disproved. That’s not to say he didn’t know already! It just- made it more apparent.
Kaito sighs, ringing his head in his hands and rubbing at his temples. He wouldn’t say he regrets it, of course he doesn’t, but when he's all alone, he can’t deny that… Well, it doesn’t matter does it?
There’s the sound of footsteps skipping down the hall, they’re light and soft like walking on top of clouds. They aren’t bothered by the tense atmosphere, breezing right through it and letting it wash over them. He pushes down the bitterness rising in the back of his throat, as they slow in front of his door, knocking quickly in a playful manner, the last knock being the lightest as if it’s the last note in a song.
It’s a short boy who opens the door, smiling warmly and dressed in a set of black scrubs with a white coat thrown over top. The jacket is too big for him, undone at the front with the sleeves rolled up - one less rolled than the other, he notices - and it hangs down nearly to his knees. His smile is deceiving, too sharp at the edges like he’s hiding razorblades in his cheeks. On his feet he’s got a pair of purple rubber-soled shoes and his hair is tied back in a small ponytail where his neck meets his head, bright purple strands curling up at the ends like they’re reaching for the sky or about to be struck down by lightning.
He knows the man and it could be both.
“You…” Kaito feels his breath leave his body, his mouth dryer than that one time he tried the spoonful of cinnamon challenge.
“Me.” Oma chirps, his sharp teeth put on display as he drops his warmth for something colder, “You miss me?”
His teeth aren’t perfect, more cream than white and they aren’t straight like a comb, sitting nicely but not gently, like a dog who’s played too much tug-of-war. Kaito’s always had a running suspicion that it’s because he bit all his dentist's fingers off. His lips are stretched wide, inhumanly so like they were stitched up by the sides or his cheeks were split open at the seams to crack and let his blood and teeth and venom spill out unimpeded - dripping onto the floor he walks to poison and slice up those he walks towards and leaves behind as if broken toys.
“Admit it. You missed me.” Oma steps closer.
“Wha- what are you wearing?” Kaito can only say the first thing that comes to mind, his tongue struggling to not seize at his attempt to use it. His head is throbbing with every second he stays upright and every time he has to fight down a wince at the ever growing pressure around his eyes is another thought he cannot think and another word he can’t get out. All he can hope for (deep in the back of his mind where he is still aware of himself) is that his reflexive tone to Oma’s presence is still insulting.
“You like it?” Oma takes the time to do a cute little twirl, his long jacket flowing around his slim legs like a dress. “I couldn’t find a nurse’s outfit.” He shrugs like it’s all the explanation in the world, “Y’know those sexy ones with the skirt?” gesturing a little less than halfway down his thigh.
Kaito nods along dazedly before he realises what he’s doing, shaking his head aggressively.
“Yeah,” Oma nods back grimly, “Had to settle for these.” He grabs the bottom of the scrubs shirt like he's inspecting it for stains in a department store changing room. It looks like it’s about his size, he probably went with a women’s top, Kaito can’t imagine them making a men’s version small enough for him. There’s also the matter of cut, even under the boxy jacket he can see how the black shirt hugs his waist, accentuating his lithe body. “Though, it looks like I got Momo-chan’s attention anyway!”
Kaito sputters, eyes darting away as fast as he can make them move, “You do not!” He scoffs to the wall, sensing Oma’s self-satisfied smirk directed at the side of his head. “No need to lie.” Oma takes another step closer, almost gliding against the pearly floor.
Kaito tenses further, grinding his teeth down further, “What the fuck are you doing here?” He spits, “You don’t seriously think I’ll believe you’re a doctor.”
Kaito can’t resist leaning back when Oma stops next to the bed, “Why not?” He taps a finger to his pouting lips, raising his knee to lean it against the springy mattress. He’s looking down at Kaito like he’s a gourmet meal presented on a silver platter, like he’ll pick him apart for the fun of it. Oma presses a bony finger to Kaito’s sternum, feeling him shiver involuntarily at the contact.
Oma pushes his shoulders forward the same way one would push out their chest, under the jacket, his v-neck is large enough that Kaito can see the tip of Oma’s thin collarbone protruding from his skin. Oma’s basically purring, leaning even further into his space as Kaito chokes down his spit to whisper against his ear, “I’m very good at… taking care of people.”
Kaito isn’t sure whether to push him away, punch him, or yell. The breath on his ear tingles, the hot air making him want to cringe. He’s sure that if he leans any further away he’ll fall back into his thin pillows, and Oma will take it as a sign to do whatever he wants. Even now the only thing keeping him up are his arms, threatening to start shaking from their exhaustion. If he keeps this up, he’ll be cornered, he won’t have a choice.
He reaches up to grab the hand to his chest, crushing it in his grip, Oma’s hand melding easily into his with no protest. His hand is cold, the tips of his fingers feel like he just pressed them against a can of pop, “What the fuck are you doing here?” He says, voice dripping with a malice reserved specifically for him.
Oma doesn’t flinch at the sudden aggression, instead he seems amused. Like he knew Kaito was going to snap. “Fuck. How are you here?” Kaito growls.
“Nishishi,” Oma giggles, his grin returning and blooming on his face like red wine on a white carpet, “If I say ‘walked in’ will you break my hand?”
He tightens his hold, forcing the spindly fingers to roll against each other and bend together, compressing both sides of his palm in the threat of snapping it in two. “You shouldn’t be anywhere near this place.” Kaito forces through his teeth. Oma doesn’t break eye contact, barely seeming to notice the pressure crushing his dominant hand. It’s times like these that make Kaito wonder whether Oma is a masochist or he doesn’t feel pain.
“That’s mean.” Oma’s pupils are large, swallowing up everything but a sliver of his iris and pitch black, a gaping hole no light can escape from, “You say that like I have bad intentions.”
“Answer the question.” Kaito barely remembers his headache as he stares into Oma’s unyielding face. He’s giving him nothing and everything, only not how to piece it together.
“I have my ways, my beloved.” Oma bats his eyelashes, “If you have the right materials, you can get anything you want done.” At some point, he’s pulled his other leg onto the bed, adjusting so he can hover just above straddling Kaito’s leg. If he raises his knee he could press into the insides of Oma’s thighs. “The right secrets, the right gossip, the right pictures…” Oma trails, listing them like the weather, “The uniform’s just for the patients.” He smirks.
“Here,” Oma reaches his other hand, what he was doing with it before, Kaito couldn’t say, to his coat pocket, digging in and pulling out a lanyard before slipping it over his neck, “I even borrowed this to make it more authentic.”
Kaito squints at it, Oma’s chest close enough to his own it’s hard to see; the lanyard is pink and covered with a white cartoon bunny pasted all over it, there’s an ID hanging off that’s covered in a wide variety of stickers. Under the picture of a woman he doesn’t recognize reads the name, ‘Tsumiki Mikan’
“She’s probably not having a very good day.” Oma can’t keep his joy out of his voice. Or, more likely he doesn’t care to hide it. “And, to answer your first question,” He forgets about the girl he misfortuned easily, like she’s another one of a hundred others, she probably is knowing him. Whoever he stole the jacket from, he doesn’t care enough to mention. “I came here for you.”
That gives Kaito pause, “For me?” He blurts before he can think about it. Oma is probably lying again.
“Mhm!” Oma moves his free hand to Kaito’s forehead, almost hesitantly like he’s afraid Kaito might actually go through with breaking his hand. He still hasn’t decided yet, not willing to let go of him yet but the odds are dwindling slightly. Kaito’s more curious what Oma’s aim is and he has a feeling, once Oma actually gets hurt, he’ll make a run for it.
Oma takes his silence as a green light to run his hand through his magenta hair like he’s petting a dog. Oma hums, “I heard Momota-chan picked a fight he couldn’t win and wound up here!” he pats his head mockingly, “I was so distraught and jealous that he was fighting people who weren’t me that I just had to come out allllllllll the way out here to get my revenge.” Now’s a bit of a late time to realise his hair is out of his usual style, instead of looking like a comet flying through outer space, blazing its path through the stars, it’s just hanging limp, tickling the back of his neck. No wonder it was in his face earlier, he must really be out of it.
“It’s too bad I have to kill Momota-chan.” He says with a shrug, “Though it’s his fault, he almost got killed by someone else.”
“I didn’t ‘almost get killed’-” Kaito pulls Oma’s other hand off his head.
“You’re in a hospital bed?” Oma says, disbelieving, “You aren’t exactly a-okay, dumbass.”
“Well, I’m not almost dead either!”
“I actually read your chart. You have ten undiagnosed tumors.”
“No, I don’t!” Oma’s sat down fully on top of his leg, so he couldn't even get up and storm off if he wanted to. Unless he feels like pitching the so-called supreme leader of evil onto the floor. “And even if I did-” Kaito makes sure to glare right into Oma’s uncaring face, “-which I don’t! Those are completely unrelated!”
Oma bites his lip and Kaito dreads whatever shit he’s going to spew next. How he managed to get Oma’s attention, he’ll never know. He knows he’s the Luminary of the Stars and all but Oma doesn’t seem like the type to settle for one enemy, much less act the way he does around him. Oma hasn’t even tried to pull his wrists away, seemingly fine to leave his arms in Kaito’s very capable hands. He’s not sure whether to let them go or not, would it be more awkward to change their position now or would it be worse to keep holding him and be potentially made fun of? That’s a trick, Oma will make fun of him no matter what he does if he so wishes to.
“Momota-chan is lying.” Oma decides. Not bothering to consult him on that decision at all.
“Hah?” Kaito fights the urge to squeeze his hand again, “About what? You sure as hell were lying about the tumors.” He bites back that traitorous part of his brain that worries, irrationally, that he may not be. There’s always that part of Kaito who’s been a little too curious about him, the part of him that wondered whether Oma’s power was omniscience or future vision with how he always seemed to know more than he ever did - how he’s never been caught with anything despite his connection to everything. “There’s no way your organization could get hospital records.”
Oma raises his eyebrow, “But I can impersonate a nurse without a problem?” He rolls his eyes with a scoff, but meets his right back again, “Momota-chan seems a little short sighted.” He giggles, faux-sweet, “Maybe you should get that checked while you’re here.”
“You should get checked by a psychiatrist.”
“Rude!” Oma gasps like Kaito’s just spewed off profanities, “Meanie!”
“Uh-huh.” Kaito raises his eyebrow after a moment and tilts his head, “How are you a ‘Supreme Leader’ if you act like such a brat?”
Oma’s face turns blank, “Did you just ask me that as a genuine question?” At Kaito’s half shrug-half nod, he puffs up his chest, “Because I’m the best, duh-doi.” Oma snickers and continues, “Not just that but I make other people better! And take care of anyone who disobeys me.” What he said about taking care earlier suddenly has a whole new meaning.
“You just make people stronger?” Kaito scoffs, he has a hard time imagining this twig of man could do anything of the sort, “All this bugging me and I haven’t seen that happen once.”
“That’s because I only help out my people.” Oma scoffs, “Imagine if I went around helping out randos. My reputation as the single most dangerous supervillain in all of history would be tarnished! That’s more of a goody-two-shoes Momota-chan thing.”
He narrowly avoids saying the first thing he thinks, I wouldn’t say the most dangerous, knowing Oma flops easily between whiny and sadistic like they’re two sides of the same coin. Just because he hasn’t killed Kaito yet doesn’t mean he won’t flip a switch and relocate him from the hospital to the morgue. A part of Kaito doubts he will - but maybe Oma’s just played him like a fiddle, maybe that’s what he wants him to think.
The thought twists up something sour in Kaito’s chest. Here he is, fraternizing with the enemy. The enemy sitting on his lap, wrists compliant in his much larger hands - he feels more like he’s holding a cat than a criminal known only by police and heroes alike for his ability to reign in the shadows, waiting for an opportunity to strike.
He clearly has backup somewhere. Hiding among the doctors and nurses, ready to act if Kaito dares to pet him wrong. It’s like walking over a minefield and not knowing when the bombs will go off.
“You’re all quiet now?” Oma tilts his head, the loose strands surrounding his face bounce along with him, “I know you aren’t smart but I didn't think you’d have that much trouble keeping up with me. How lame.”
“I’m plenty smart!” He winces at his own voice, too loud and ringing around his head. Oma just laughs, saying, “Sure you are!” in a voice thick with mocking. “You really should stick to fighting down. Next time you may not be so lucky.” He tugs his wrist from his hand to flick at Kaito’s nose.
Kaito scrunches it up on reflex and drops his hands to fall onto his leg, “Yeah? What about you huh? You aren’t better than me, the only reason you can get away with shit is because of your organization.”
“Nishishi, as if you don’t rely on your sidekicks!” Oma leans in and their noses almost brush, Kaito feels his cheeks flare up, “A detective to track down your villains and an ex-villain to save your ass. You’re telling me you don’t need them at all?”
“Don’t bring them into this.” Kaito all but growls in his face, “This is between me and you.”
“DICE is me.” Oma says with a smirk. He grasps the sides of Kaito’s head lightly, grazing him with his nails as he tilts his head up to meet Oma’s eyes as he returns to hovering over him like a king. He whispers, Kaito can barely hear it over his own breath, “But I guess I can humor my beloved this time.”
Kaito hasn’t got a retort. Oma knows this and slinks off him slowly like he’s intent to really make him freeze in his absence. “I’ve gotta run, Momo-chan. Keeping an empire running is like totally time consuming.”
He stops at the door, whirling his head back to watch him stay unable to look away, Oma must have some sort of power over him, he swears. Oma grins, again with too much teeth, “Next time you end up in a hospital, it's going to be because of me.” His violet eyes glint under the sterile lights, “Not DICE. Just me.” He makes a little half heart with his pointer and middle finger, “You better look forward to it!”
He disappears with a flutter of his stolen jacket and Kaito sinks into the bed with a sigh. He really does hate hospitals.