Chapter Text
It all started when watching the play at Aetheria Academy, Kanai Ward. Things were going so smoothly until around 45 minutes in, at least, that was what Yuma told him as Desuhiko was fast asleep. Was it due to boredom? Yes, yes, it was.
He remembers being woken up by Karen's coughing, then blood came pooling out of her pale throat. The feeling of panic washing over the short detective as he looked over to his partner in this whole investigation, Yuma Kokohead. His face had a shade of purple over the top of his head as he stood there like a statue. Unmoving, unblinking. After a second which felt like hours, Yuma finally acted as Desuhiko was wailing about his intense fear of blood and corpses, and even mentioned how he only handles domestic investigations as his panicked voice continued to rise more and more.
He also remembers Kurumi being accused of the crime by the Vice Director known as Martina Electro. A cold woman with a nature so frozen, you’d be sorry not to follow any orders she gives you. Yet, is only loyal to Yomi Hellsmile, the conniving bastard who hurts people for his own pleasure and disgusting pride. Cunning, truly. As his executions are some of the most brutal in Kanai Ward.
Desuhiko remembers the anxiety consuming him while distracting that Peacekeeper at the expense of his energy, just so Yuma could disguise as one of the culprits to try and gather intel on the case that was at hand. One at a time. He also remembers sneaking into the bathroom to try and get Yuma disguised as quickly as possible so no one gets suspicious.
Desuhiko vividly remembers the utter panic in Yuma and his expressions as Martina saw Yuma disguised as her. Cursing Yuma under his breath for walking in at a terribly wrong time.
Oh yes, he remembers everything. Except for the Mystery Labyrinth as the Death Goddess that was before him explained it all after he ignored Yuma’s explanation. But he saw one of the girls come back to life to confess that her, Waruna and Kurane were responsible for the spontaneous poisoning of Karen; an act of utter revenge for their friend, Aiko. Who Karen murdered by pure impulse over a dumb argument.
Damn, it’s all coming back now. Desuhiko puts his head in his hands while sitting next to his disguise bag, wondering what he had done to deserve to witness such events that wreaked war on his very mind.
Dear lord. The torment is unending, isn’t it?
He also misses Yuma dearly. How can he just leave Kanai Ward after everyone except the Master Detectives that actually made it into Kanai Ward were revealed as homunculi? Were they not important to him?? Did their relationship mean nothing?
That is what Desuhiko thought at first, but obtained his number through someone else, and little by little, their relationship turned to long distance.
But it’s painful, he hates how his heart swells with warmth when he thinks of the short detective, but he can’t physically see him. Not after it was known that he was in fact, Number One of the World Detective Organisation. Well, formerly, as he resigned long before he lost his memories.
“Damn”, he thinks to himself. His mind is swarming with the corpse of Karen, all the pink blood. The image of it burned into his very brain.
Desuhiko did note that the blood was an unusual colour, but it all makes sense now after Makoto explained everything over 2 months ago.
He catches his heart yearning for Yuma, just to see him physically. He doesn’t care if it would be for the last time before he goes on another of his adventures as a solo detective with the world on his shoulders. He just needs to talk to him. Physically.
He turns to where his chief used to sit before his death at the hands of Fink the Slaughter Artist after killing Dr. Huesca. Why did all these awful things happen to them specifically?
Right, that’s enough dwelling, time to get this show on the road, Desuhiko Thunderbolt. You have to text your boyfriend!
With a swift motion, he picks up his phone from the submarine's coffee table and unlocks it. Scrolling through his contacts until he finds Yuma’s number, opening their conversation. His fingers tremble as he types his message.
What if he’s too busy to respond?? Or is this a day where he texts back so fast that it’s scary?
The text reads: “Heyyyyy, my man! I was wondering if you would be up for coming back to Kanai Ward, I think we’ve been apart for far too long. Hope to hear from you!!”
Pair that with a lot of exaggerated emojis and his fingers glaze over the send icon.. He presses it after pulling the doubts from his head.
"Well, let’s see if he responds…” He mutters to himself before laying down on the couch…