Archive of Our Own

Kokichi was in the library once again, aiming to find books to cover up his research progress. He had been doing it a few times, just picking up random things to read or bring back to his dorm like some sort of squirrel — hoarding books like his life depended on it… which he clearly wasn’t. He was just trying to make sure that no one would know what he was trying to find out after all, chalking it up to pure curiosity and boredom.

Probing around the musty, dusty bookshelves and pulling out random things to add to his slowly growing, overwhelming hoard of papers and literature that he probably will never plan on reading… until a small book fell out as he was stacking more into his arms. It was a thin one, just enough for him to comfortably hold in one hand.

“Poetry?” He raised a brow. Kokichi had never really been the kind of person to truly sit down and read poetry before, although he somewhat remembered that one of his old friends had quite liked reciting and reading some for the other members of the organization. And, for one reason or another, he felt an unexplainable pull towards his little book.

He hummed to himself as he pushed the other books aside, focusing on this one instead. He’ll get them back later. Kokichi sat down on one of the unoccupied seats, opening the book and scanning a few pages.

It was mostly just Shakespeare… made sense, of course, the guy was practically the pinnacle of literature and writing. Made plays, sonnets, poems — invented words, names, and all sorts of other things. It wasn’t hard to see why he was so admired for his craft and why most of his creations still hold up to this very day. Kokichi recalls hearing his subordinate talk about the writer quite a lot… he couldn’t exactly remember what that conversation was about, but he knew it was something he found to be a good memory. Or perhaps just anything to do with his family was a good memory.

Hearts, his friend who often wore her hair up in long pigtails, often talked about the details and the emotions that Shakespeare was able to place in his work. How he managed to write and provoke so many feelings into others that no other writer at that time and, still to this day, could replicate exactly. So many established themes in his writing are often found in popular narratives, Kokichi found. Timeless themes like life and death, fate, tragedy, and the idea that not everything would always end happily…

Mindlessly flipping through page after page, Kokichi stopped in his tracks as he saw the title of a sonnet that caught his eye. “Sonnet 71..” He whispered, his fingers lightly touching the edge of the chapter title before flipping it to read the poem.

Slowly scanning the words, he found himself thinking back to a time that was much simpler, much more.. Calm and happy. When he had been calmer and happier.

In the headquarters of his organization, where he and his family stayed, where they worked and spent time together, where they held each other — through tears and happiness — where they talked, ate, and laughed together; when the world was a little kinder to Kokichi than it was now.

No longer mourn for me when I am dead.

Kokichi walked through the public library that he and his members often visited. It was a quiet spot on the edge of the street, away from all the chaos that the main town and the marketplace had. He and Hearts often visited the spot together. Well, it was mostly just her looking around and referencing poetry whenever she saw a phrase from something, then proceeding to go on a rant about how the author was truly trying to convey this other feeling rather than the popular sayings of other people… or that the poet was a douchebag that stole from his wife or cheated on his wife… or whatever other vendettas she has on them. It was strangely endearing how much she cared about the lives of dead people, whose fans and artistic admirers just saw as someone creative enough to be recognized on a global scale. 

It was something he only really found her doing around them. She was never the type to voice out her opinions to strangers, never the type to share her anxieties and troubles. Never the type to ask for help. It was selfless, in a way he could respect. Kokichi does it too. But she should really work on that. They were friends — family, even; they had each other. They had an entire group of people willing to hear her thoughts and opinions. People who wouldn’t judge her even if they disagreed or had a different idea entirely.

Her lack of trust also made those little moments in the library much more meaningful to him. As after they would walk around and find a book, or multiple books, that they wanted to look at, they’d go to their little spot — secluded and quiet, away from all the other library-goers — and read together. It was in that little spot where she would often open up about something that was worrying her, something that was brewing on her mind, or on the edge of her tongue. The fact that she had trusted him so many times meant so much; she was willing to actually talk about her feelings, to rip the edges of her bubbly persona to show him the small girl hiding beneath… the girl he had seen before, the girl he saved from that dreaded place. It felt good to know he was helping in some way, to know that she was finally letting go of her guarded ways. It was something they all had as a group; their shared background did way too much damage on them… but Kokichi was glad for one thing, that he found them and they found him.

“It’s about… well, you know who,” she muttered, her voice soft and unsure, the edges of the literature book she held digging into her fingers as if doing so grounded her. “She’s been acting a bit… off. Ever since—”

He hummed softly, waiting for her to talk more, but visibly keeping his attention and his eyes on the big block of paper in his arms. He didn’t look up, didn’t shift even slightly to glance at her. A quirk he had to learn with Hearts, a very odd one, is that if she felt his eyes on her — if you show her that you’re fully listening with your entire body, eyes on her and silence in between them, she won’t elaborate further, closing off faster than a teenager slamming a door shut after storming away from their parents. He’d learned though, through trial and error, that listening without staring was the key to getting her to open up. It was strange, sure, but it worked. He hasn’t gotten to asking her why that was the case. Not certain if he would ever do so, but that was her call to make if she wanted to tell him. Kokichi knew, even if he didn’t look directly at her, that she had gotten the idea that he was still present and still listening.

“It’s just...” Hearts inhaled sharply, tense, stumbling over her words. Kokichi reached out and gently patted the top of her hand as he had done so many times before. She seemed to reel herself in, calming down at his touch to properly process her thoughts and find the words to express how she was feeling. “I don’t know if I did something wrong… or I made her angry.. or anything! I don’t know anything..”

Kokichi fought the urge to glance up at her, but seeing that she was staring down at her book, he decided to continue what he was doing…

“You could never do anything wrong, not on purpose at least.” He responded automatically before mulling on her words. “Still, you should go try to ask her rather than trying to figure it out all by yourself and blaming everything on you.”

“For all you know, she could just be worried about that project she’s been working on.”

Hearts groaned at his suggestion, her head dropping into her hands as she let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “But that’s so hard, you know I can’t..”

Kokichi raised an eyebrow at her, his lips twitching — tempted to twist his smile into something in between amusement and exasperation, “Can’t or won’t?” he asked. Hearts was forever dancing between indecision and excuses, often blaming timing, circumstance, or, on particularly creative days, Mercury being in retrograde. The funny thing was, whenever she would use that excuse, Kokichi knew fully well that she wasn’t into astrology nor did she delve into it enough to know what the hell that even meant, so it was just a blatant lie whenever it came up.

She froze for a moment at his question, her eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to find a loophole in his logic. But there wasn’t one. He was right, and she knew it. He was almost always right. With a defeated sigh, she looked up, her gaze meeting his, “…Fine. I’ll try. Is that good enough for you?” she huffed, her lips curving into a small pout.

Kokichi let out a small laugh. “Sure, sure..” He rolled his eyes at her. “Just make sure not to mess up again. You wear your heart on your sleeve too much..”

“That’s where I got my name,” Hearts joked, slapping his hand away from her.

“And we love you for it,” he shot back with a teasing hum, turning back to what he was reading — realizing he hadn’t even gotten halfway into it when they started talking. “Now stop pouting, or you’ll get even more wrinkles.”

Her jaw dropped in mock offense, placing her hand on her chest like she was personally struck by an arrow and wounded, “I’ll have you know I have an amazing skincare routine!”

“And yet,” he teased, his voice dripping with amusement, “you skip days. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

“Damn you and your all-seeing, all-knowing ass,” she muttered, though her lips betrayed her as she fought back a smile.

“You’d be so lost without me. Admit it,” Kokichi grinned that all-too-familiar smile of his.

She let out a laugh, one that started soft but grew louder, leaning back in her seat as she shook her head in disbelief. “Ah, yeah, yeah. What would we do without you, boss?” she said, punctuating her words with a light punch to his shoulder before turning her attention back to the book in her lap.

A lot of things, Kokichi thought as he glanced back down, shifting his gaze back to the pages in his hands, his fingers tracing the edges absentmindedly. You’re capable of so much, all of you. With or without me.

Then you shall hear the surly sullen bell.

Give warning to the world that I am fled,

Oh, Kokichi almost always had the urge to step on a few toes many times before. But, if you would believe him, he’s been keeping himself in check so that he doesn’t set a bad example to his friends and subordinates — or heavens forbid, actually break the rules that he himself set in place. That wouldn’t be very pretty.

But there comes a time where someone just happens to be on the wrong side of the argument and his mood is set off. Case in point, this one right now. Diamonds was on the couch, clutching a pillow as he cried his eyes out while Clubs hovered nearby, gently and awkwardly patting his back, unsure if his touch was helping or making things worse.

Gone was the polished, cocky facade — the slicked-back blond hair that never had a strand out of place. Instead, his usually pointy hair hung limp, messy, and unkempt, no gel in his hair and everything… like he hadn’t bothered with his appearance like he usually did. Falling in front of his tear-streaked face as he clutched a pillow like it was the only thing tethering him to the world, with the energy of a toddler on the verge of a nervous breakdown and a tantrum.

Kokichi stood there, observing the scene with a deepening frown, his jaw tightening as he forced himself to breathe. In and out. Keep it together. He couldn’t afford to lose his composure, not now. Not when his friend was like this. “Clubs,” he started slowly, his voice soft and low, just enough for the taller boy to hear, “What... happened here?”

Clubs glanced up, his dark eyes flickering between Kokichi and the sobbing blond. He leaned in closer, lowering his voice until it was barely above a whisper. “Di got.. uhh.. placed on the discard pile..” he murmured, his words hesitant, as though speaking them aloud might make things worse, “..If you know what I mean.”

He does. Unfortunately, he does. And the realization of that fact made his blood simmer.

He clenched his fists at his sides, his nails digging into his palms as he fought the rising tide of anger. Diamonds may have been loud and brash on the surface, but anyone who truly knew him understood that beneath that exterior lay a heart so big it could rival Hearts herself. Whatever had happened to reduce him to this state… it wasn’t just cruel. It was unforgivable. The sight was enough to make him want to wage war on whoever made his subordinate cry in such a manner.

Kokichi inhaled deeply, forcing himself to approach with gentleness instead of the fury bubbling under his skin. He lowered himself onto the couch beside his friend, careful not to crowd him. Diamonds had calmed somewhat, his sobs growing quieter, though his body still trembled with each shaky breath. His fingers clawed at the pillow in his lap, gripping it so tightly it was a wonder the fabric hadn’t torn. “Hey..”

“What happened, Di? You wanna tell me?”

The blond let out a pitiful sound, something between a groan and a whimper, before burying his face deeper into the pillow. His response was muffled, incoherent, but the fresh wave of sobs that followed spoke volumes that made his heart shatter at the very first moment it came out. Kokichi exchanged a glance with Clubs, who shrugged helplessly before resuming his gentle pats. He merely joined his friend, moving his hand in slow rhythm to the dark-haired subordinate of his, gently trying to show him a bit of comfort, not exactly knowing what to do. “Let it out..” he whispered softly.

It took a while — several minutes of them quietly just listening to Diamonds’ sniffling and occasional hiccups — but eventually, the blond began to settle. His sobs faded into soft breaths, and when Kokichi offered him a glass of milk and a plate of cookies, he accepted them with trembling hands. The sight of Diamonds nibbling on a cookie, his swollen eyes downcast but no longer spilling tears, was both a relief and a heartbreak. So soft he was, so sensitive and loving. It did not matter how many times he may annoy or frustrate his friends, they all loved him and wanted the best... for Kokichi to see him in this state — he just didn't know how to handle it. Kokichi offered him more as Diamonds leaned his head on his shoulder. He had whispered softly, explaining what had happened whilst trying to not burst out into tears once more.

“It’s just… I thought they cared about me, you know?” His words wavered, and he paused, as though steadying himself. “I thought they liked me for me.” His grip tightened on the glass of milk, his knuckles turning white. “I was so stupid.”

Kokichi just pulled him into a hug as he continued ranting and ranting about this ongoing regular who he really liked but apparently was just using him to get free shit at the little shop the blond worked at part time.. Yeah, he honestly expected it. There was no way that some customer just fell head over heels for the cashier after shopping for six packs of cigarettes and a random yogurt, but what can you do when you thought there was something there? He didn’t voice those thoughts out, of course, that would only make Diamonds cry more. He was always a little clueless in the whole “love” department, having virtually no experience in it, but it was still such an awful way to learn that lesson.

Of course, Kokichi was angry. Who wouldn’t? Diamonds explained how the little brat was flirting with him and everything. And it wasn’t just a simply, ‘innocent’ compliment or two — no. It was in the ‘are you interested in me’ category. Of course, he was distraught. He was young and full of emotions that he never acted on before, it was given something was going to happen... Of course, he was sad. And Kokichi was very, very mad.

In his head, he already had several plans laid out on what he could effectively do to get revenge for this situation… but the way Diamonds had clung to his sleeve, the way he was muttering how he really cared for this person, the way he was saying that it was fine… Kokichi knew it was a signal not to do anything. Even if it really wasn’t fine.

And despite how angry he is… it’s what his friend wants. He wasn’t going to betray that trust, he wasn’t going to just go behind his back and do something that could hurt Diamonds more. He cared about them more than any other sense of justice or revenge his gut told him to get. His friend needed comfort, not a crusade. But the thought still lingered in the back of his mind, ready in case he wanted to find the bitch and give him hell on Earth.

By the time Clubs helped Diamonds to his room and tucked him into bed, the blond had passed out from the sheer exhaustion of crying his feelings out. Kokichi stood in the doorway, watching him for a moment, his expression soft as he sighed. “If he changes his mind,” he said quietly to Clubs, “let me know.”

“You’ll be the first to know,” his black-haired subordinate nodded. “Thanks, boss..”

Kokichi smiled faintly, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “No need to thank me. Diamonds didn’t deserve what happened to him.”

As they walked away, Clubs sighed, his voice a low murmur in the quiet hallway. “This world can be so cruel to the nicest people..”

“That’s just life..” He muttered — not to anyone in particular, just to himself and the silent air that surrounded him, his steps slowing for a moment as he looked ahead and dissolved into his thoughts. All of you didn’t deserve what this world offered you. You all deserved so much more.

From this vile world with vilest worms to dwell;

Nay, if you read this line, remember not

Vier was, without a doubt, the most introverted member of their little group. The newest addition. She was the kind of person who preferred the quiet comfort of the shadows over the chaos of the spotlight. While the others thrived on the thrill of executing the plans and pranks, she was content to stay behind the scenes, crafting the schemes and plans with meticulous precision rather than being seen carrying them out. And that was perfectly fine. Everyone had their place in the group, and Vier’s cleverness and brilliance were invaluable. That was her spot, the place she felt the most comfortable and no one in their family faulted her for it.

Spades often accompanied her, being an unofficial guardian of sorts, when the others were too busy or off somewhere else. Kokichi had no worries when she was with him. Spades was one of the more responsible ones in their chaotic collective. But, ironically, that same reliability made the pair the perfect candidates for Kokichi’s latest scheme.

From his vantage point, Kokichi watched silently, his head tilted toward the opening of the air vent. A grin tugged at the corners of his lips as his sharp eyes tracked the movements of his unsuspecting subordinate and accomplice. The two were slowly approaching the door, Vier unaware of the plan he had conducted behind her back with the one person she thought she could trust to not pull a fast one on her. He reached for the walkie-talkie clipped to his side and pressed the button slowly. The faint crackle of static hissed from the device, he covered it to mask the sound before he whispered in a hushed tone, “A bit more…”

Everything was falling into place, just as planned.

Spades, ever the dependable one, opened the door first. His tall, broad form moved with purpose, shielding Vier from the view of anything suspicious. Not that the brunette was paying attention anyway — her focus was entirely consumed by the handheld game console in her hands. Kokichi’s grin widened as the other man’s voice crackled through the walkie-talkie.

“Spades reporting, boss,” he said, his tone dry.

He peeked out from his hiding spot, just enough to meet Spades’ gaze. The larger man’s expression was one of barely concealed amusement, but he played along, rolling his eyes dramatically before winking at him. Kokichi winked in return, stifling a laugh in order to not be heard nor seen by anyone else. Spades turned his attention back to Vier, his voice adopting a casual tone as he began to set the stage. God, his subordinates were so talented. He couldn’t help but be so proud.

“Vi,” Spades said lightly, “have you found that holographic card you were searching for yet?”

Vier froze for a moment, her shoulders sagging slightly before she let out a deep, exaggerated sigh. The very mention of her ongoing failure seemed to deflate her entirely. “Don’t remind me,” she muttered, her voice tinged with obvious frustration. For a brief moment, her tone mirrored Kokichi’s signature whine, though hers lacked the intensity of the playful edge he often wielded.

“I’ve looked everywhere,” she continued, her voice growing softer, almost as if she was mourning a lost lover in another life.. instead of just missing something she's wanted for a while now. “I still can’t find the trading cards that had those… and I’ve opened so many packs already. It’s hopeless.” She sighed before quietly adding, “Boss is gonna kill me when he finds out I drained the card again…”

He knew already. Of course he knew, he would check in often to see what other shenanigans and usually useless items his subordinates bought with their shared account, but that was the point of the damn thing anyways. To have something that they can spend recklessly on the little things that they love. They weren't rich — not by any means, no... but it was enough to get some ice cream, maybe some chips, and perhaps even an arcade game or three.

Rolling his eyes, Kokichi had to bite his lip to keep from laughing as he waited, carefully timing his next move. With the smallest amount of precision, he slid the opened pack of cards through the small slot in the air vent, letting them fall to the ground directly behind Vier. Immediately, he ducked back into the shadows, away from the opening, holding his breath to avoid giving himself away.

The sound that followed was priceless — a sharp, shocked gasp that quickly morphed into a gleeful squeal. “Wha- who- why- how?!” Vier’s voice was a mixture of disbelief and excitement, each word tumbling out faster than the last. The telltale rustle of shuffling cards reached Kokichi’s ears, and his grin widened as he imagined the look on her face.

“Oh wow, there it is,” Spades said, his tone nonchalant as if the appearance of the rare card was the most natural thing in the world.

“The card!” she screeched, her voice rising several octaves, enough to rival Mariah Carey’s Christmas songs.

Kokichi couldn’t help but chuckle softly to himself as he listened to her excited rambling. She was speaking faster than he’d ever heard her before, her words spilling out in a chaotic stream as she marveled at the card’s pristine condition. She was going on about what the grade it might receive, the way it shimmered in the light, and the special film added during manufacturing. Kokichi leaned back against the wall in the vent. It had taken him weeks to track down that rare card, not to mention a fair bit of blackmail and bribery to secure it. But hearing Vier’s genuine excitement — made it all worth it.

He hoped she’d notice the little sticky note he’d stuck to the back. It was simple, handwritten in his unmistakable scribble: Happy Birthday, Vier. The first happy one out of many. <3

Vier, meanwhile, was still lost in her excitement — lost in the sauce of sheer happiness — clutching the card like it was a precious treasure. Kokichi could hear the joy in her voice as she continued to ramble, her usual shyness completely forgotten in the moment. She was radiant, and for once, she wasn’t hiding behind her shell.

Kokichi slipped away silently, leaving them to their moment. As he walked down the hall, his grin softened into something more genuine. Happy Birthday, Vier, he hummed. You deserve this. And so much more.

the hand who writ it; for I love you so,

That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot

Kokichi rolled his eyes and smiled to himself as he leaned against the shopping cart. From his vantage point on the sidelines, he had a perfect view of the chaos unfolding in the cereal aisle. Two of his closest companions, Tres and Queen, were at it again, their voices rising steadily as they bickered over cereal brands for what had to be the fiftieth time. It didn’t matter how mundane the topic was — those two could turn it into a heated debate worthy of a courtroom drama.

“Frosted Flakes are better!” Queen exclaimed, clutching a bright blue box like it was a sacred artifact. Her bob glinted under the harsh fluorescent lights of their local grocery shop as she glared at Tres, her free hand perched stubbornly on her hip as if to stake her position and defend it to the very end.

“Better? Don’t make me laugh!” Tres shot back, brandishing a box of Bran Squares like it was a weapon. His hair which covered half his face was slightly disheveled, likely from running his fingers through it in frustration as their argument escalated, strands of hair sticking out as he meddled with it like it would be the key to his argument — or at least, an effective stress reliever. “You just like them because they’re coated in sugar! This isn’t breakfast; it’s dessert pretending to be breakfast.”

Queen gasped dramatically, clutching her chest as though he had struck her. “Excuse me? At least Frosted Flakes have flavor! Your cereal taste like corn sprinkled with sadness.”

“Sadness builds character!” Tres retorted, narrowing his eyes. “You wouldn’t understand because you’ve got the palate of a five-year-old.”

“That’s rich coming from someone who eats oatmeal with water like a grandpa! How do you even eat that every day?!”

Kokichi stifled a chuckle, sighing and shaking his head to himself as he watched the two squabble. Tres and Queen were two of the oldest members of their ragtag organization, yet they often acted like a pair of unruly siblings. It was moments like these that reminded him how much history they shared — not just with the group, but with each other.

They had joined the merry band of pranksters years ago after an incident in their old home left them with nowhere else to go. The details of that story were murky, and neither Tres nor Queen liked to talk about it much, but Kokichi knew it had been enough to uproot their lives and force them to seek out something new. When the group had rolled through their town and left trails of mischief and laughter wherever they went, Tres and Queen had decided to tag along for the hell of it. And it hadn’t taken long for them to find their place among the chaos.

It helped that they looked so similar to each other — Queen with her short strawberry-blonde bob and Tres with his lighter, blondish-brown hair — and it was easy to play the parts that they just eventually fell into a pattern they couldn’t quite escape from. They fought, they bickered, they helped each other. If there was anyone else who didn’t know them and watched the two going at it, they would be convinced that the two were actually blood related in some way.

Watching them now, Kokichi couldn’t help but be reminded of two squawking birds fighting over the last seed. Their voices overlapped in a cacophony of insults and counterarguments, each one more ridiculous than the last.

“You’re just mad because you don’t have the taste buds to appreciate subtlety!” Tres said, jabbing a finger toward Queen’s box of Frosted Flakes.

“Subtlety?” Queen echoed, her voice dripping with disbelief. “You mean blandness? Oh, sure, let me just eat a bowl of cardboard every morning and pretend I’m enjoying myself.”

“At least Bran Squares are healthy!” Tres shot back. “You’re setting yourself up for a sugar crash before lunchtime.”

“And you’re setting yourself up for a lifetime of misery!” Queen countered, brows furrowing as she held up the box like it was some sort of blessed gift from the heavens and she wished to show them its glory.

Kokichi finally stepped in, unable to hold back his laughter any longer. “Alright, you two,” he said, pushing the cart closer to where they stood. “If I have to listen to one more word about cereal, I’m the one who’s gonna start crashing out.”

The pair turned to him in unison, their expressions identical in their mix of indignation and surprise. For all their differences, they really did look like siblings — two peas in a very argumentative pod.

“She started it!” Tres said, pointing at Queen, just like a child trying to convince his parental figure that he was correct and that his sister was antagonizing him.

“Did not!” Queen snapped, clutching her box of Frosted Flakes tighter. “He’s just mad because he knows I’m right!”

Kokichi raised a hand, cutting them off before they could launch into another round. “How about this,” he sighed, rolling his eyes as he smiled. “We just get both. Frosted Flakes for Queen, Bran Squares for Tres. Problem solved.”

“But—” they both started to protest.

“No buts,” Kokichi said, pointing a look at them that made them pause in place. “Unless you want to keep fighting and let Hearts pick the cereal next time. And you know she’ll just grab something weird… like granola with seaweed flakes... or something.”

They both grimaced at the thought, muttering reluctant agreements as they dropped their respective cereal boxes into the cart. Kokichi smiled to himself, pleased with himself. They both knew they couldn’t win against him. That was just a fact of their life now.

As they continued down the aisle, Tres and Queen fell back into step beside him, their argument forgotten — for now. They were already chatting about something else, their voices overlapping in a way that was somehow both endearing and exhausting. Kokichi let them talk, content to let their familiar bickering fill the air as he pushed the cart ahead.

For all their quirks and childish antics, Tres and Queen were family. Not just to each other, but to him and the rest of the group. And as much as they drove him crazy sometimes, Kokichi wouldn’t trade moments like this for anything.

If thinking on me then should make you woe.

O! If, I say, you look upon this verse,

Kokichi didn’t remember exactly when he drifted off — slumped against the worn cushions of the old couch they all shared, lazily picking at the remnants of popcorn in the bowl on his lap, half-listening to the cheesy dialogue of the Hallmark movie playing on the flickering screen. Something about Christmas, a prince, and a romance that felt too manufactured and ambitious even for his tastes. He wasn’t paying attention, not really. He didn’t need to. The movie wasn’t why he was there.

No, he was there for them. For the warmth of their laughter that filled the room like a soft blanket, for the way their voices bounced off the walls, making the shabby space feel a little less bleak.

For the food, of course — Spades had made some great mac and cheese earlier, and Hearts had insisted on arranging their snacks on a platter with an almost insane level of precision for what was supposed to be just a menagerie of gummy worms and junk food.

And for moments like these, where they could all just… exist together.

It wasn’t often that they could all be in the living room, not with the constant chatter of what to do when the bills came or if the cops were gonna come straight to their base after the most recent prank turned into something else entirely — not without the worries and responsibilities, not without the weight of a thousand suns blazing across their backs. It was rare. And maybe that’s why it felt so fleeting for Kokichi.

He sighed softly. What mattered was the here and now, he reminded himself. He shouldn’t think about their burdens yet, that was for tomorrow. The room fell still and quiet, like the world had paused for them. Today was just for them.

The faint crackle of the TV was the only sound, save for the soft, even breathing of his friends sprawled across the couch and floor. Vier had fallen asleep first, her brown hair a mess as she curled up in the corner of the couch, clutching a pillow like it was a lifeline. Diamonds wasn’t far behind, his snores soft and rhythmic as he slumped against the armrest. Ace, though, was awake. Kokichi could feel the subtle shift beside him, the way the taller boy adjusted to get comfortable without disturbing anyone else.

“You okay, boss?” Ace’s voice broke the quiet, low and almost tentative, like he wasn’t sure if he should speak. His red afro, usually so vibrant and loud, was muted under the pale glow of the moonlight streaming through the cracked blinds. His hand reached out, hesitating for just a second before ruffling his hair with a kind of brotherly affection.

Kokichi let out a soft hum in response, leaning back against Ace without a word. He didn’t need to answer because, in that moment, everything felt right. The couch was lumpy, the room cold — despite their attempts to heat it, and the movie was bad enough to make even Deux groan earlier, but none of that mattered. What mattered was this — being here, being together. He closed his eyes, letting the steady rhythm of their breathing sync with the faint thrum of his own heartbeat. Maybe this was what peace felt like.

But then, as the seconds stretched into minutes, that peace began to slip away. Kokichi’s chest tightened, though he wasn’t sure why. The warmth he’d been basking in moments ago started to feel fragile, like it could shatter if he so much as breathed too loudly. His mind — traitorous as ever — began to wander.

How many more nights like this would they have?

The thought came unexpectedly, piercing through the comforting haze he’d been wrapped in. He opened his eyes, staring blankly at the dim room, now cast in shades of gray by the moonlight. The movie was still playing, the cheerful music and cringy dialogue seemed to be ignored and practically drowned out by the thoughts circling in his head.

He looked at Queen, who was hugging a blanket tightly on the mattress she brought from her room into the living room, her face peaceful in sleep. Tres, trying to tug it back to him, but seemingly passing out on the cold floor, content with just dangling from it. He glanced at Clubs who was sitting on the floor, leaning against Diamonds’ hanging arm on the side of the couch. Hearts and Vier were all cuddled up on the opposite corner, slumped against one another — not caring about how cramped it already was with Spades and Deux laying just below them on their own mattress. And then at Ace, who was still awake, his arm resting casually on the back of the couch as he stared at the TV with a distant expression. Kokichi’s gaze lingered on him for a moment longer, taking in the faint lines of exhaustion etched into his features, the way his shoulders slumped despite his usual confident posture.

They were all so young. Too young to carry the burdens they did. Too young to have seen the things they’d seen, to have endured the things they’d endured. And yet, they had. They’d survived. Together. But survival came with scars, both visible and hidden, and Kokichi couldn’t stop the nagging thought that the world would eventually take even more from them.

“I’m fine,” Kokichi whispered finally, though his voice sounded hollow even to his own ears. Ace didn’t push, just gave a small hum of acknowledgment, his hand briefly brushing against his shoulder in a silent gesture of reassurance.

Kokichi leaned back once more, his head resting against Ace’s arm as his gaze drifted to the ceiling. The cracks in the plaster stared back at him, jagged and unyielding, like fault lines threatening to split apart. He closed his eyes, but the thoughts kept coming, unrelenting.

What would happen if this all fell apart? If one day, they weren’t here anymore? If one day, it was just him, sitting on this couch, staring at the same cracks in the ceiling, but with no one beside him?

He didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to imagine a world without them, without their voices and laughter and presence anchoring him. But the thought had rooted itself in his mind, and no matter how hard he tried to push it away, it lingered, heavy and suffocating.

His breathing hitched, and he quickly masked it with a cough, hoping Ace wouldn’t notice. He couldn’t fall apart. Not here. Not now. Not when they were all so vulnerable. He had to be the strong one. The dependable one. The one who kept them together, who made sure nights like this could still happen despite everything that was happening, that could happen — that would.

But as he sat there, surrounded by the people he cared about most, the people who had become his family, Kokichi couldn’t shake the feeling that the world was waiting — lurking in the shadows, ready to take it all away. It was a cruel world, after all. And people like them? People who laughed too loudly, cared too deeply, and loved too fiercely? They were always the first to be broken.

Kokichi forced himself to take a deep breath, letting the sound of Ace’s steady breathing and the faint snores from the others ground him. For now, they were here. For now, they were safe. He clung to that thought like a lifeline, hoping — praying to some forgotten deity that had long passed — that it would be enough to quiet the storm in his mind.

“Everything’s fine,” he whispered again, this time more to himself than to Ace. His voice wavered, barely audible, but in the silence of the room, it felt deafening.

And for the first time that night, he wasn’t sure if he believed it.

When I perhaps compounded am with clay,

Do not so much as my poor name rehearse,

But let your love even with my life decay,

Kokichi stopped reading abruptly, pushing the book aside and not wishing to finish whatever the poem had to say… after all, he already understood what it was trying to convey.

Hearts was right. Shakespeare does manage to provoke feelings and emotions onto his readers like no other… he felt his chest tightening as he replayed the words he had just read in his mind. The idea of letting go, of telling his friends — no, his family… his loved ones, the reasons he keeps pushing forward, stubbornly trying again and again — to move on from him, should he truly be dead, hurt more than he could even imagine.

But, he couldn’t help but be reminded of something he had told them years ago.

“I will always be here, by your side.” 

He had said that a number of times to many of his members. He remembered the times they would come and knock on his door, ask for advice, or just some company while they sorted out their feelings in the comfortable silence he seemingly offered to them. He can’t quite recall why they felt like he was the one to give them that safety, not sure why they would be so inclined to share their deepest insecurities with him other than the fact he had known them more than anyone else. Sure, his members are all friends with each other, best of friends really, but before they joined his organization, Kokichi was the link.

“Whether you see me or not.”

How ironic. It seemed like he needed to take his own words as advice now more than ever.

Kokichi closed the book with a soft but deliberate snap, the sound echoing faintly in the empty library. He stared at the cover for a moment, his fingers resting lightly on the worn surface. The words he’d just read lingered in his mind, refusing to let go no matter how much he wished they would. He didn’t need to finish the poem; he already knew where it was going. He already understood.

The weight of its meaning pressed down on him, heavy and suffocating. His chest ached as the words replayed themselves like a haunting melody of a song on repeat. Let them go. Let them move on. Shakespeare, in all his brilliance, had managed to strike a chord so deep it left Kokichi in literal shambles. Hearts had been right — she always was. He had this uncanny ability to strip away the walls people built around their emotions, to lay everything bare in the most beautiful and painful way possible.

Kokichi leaned back in the chair, his gaze drifting to the ceiling. It was quiet. So quiet that he could hear the creak of the old wood beneath him as he shifted, the soft rustle of fabric as he crossed his arms over his chest. The silence was oppressive, wrapping around him like a heavy blanket he couldn’t shrug off.

Let them go.

The thought clawed at him, relentless in the way it lingered in his mind, like a parasite hanging on for dear life. He couldn’t help but imagine it — his absence. The world continuing to turn, the days passing, the seasons changing, all without him in it. It was a concept he couldn’t fully grasp, no matter how hard he tried. What would it look like? What would it feel like? Would it hurt them? Would they cry? Or would they simply… move on?

His fingers twitched, his nails digging into the fabric of his sleeve as he forced himself to breathe. The idea of them — his family, his everything — letting go of him, of continuing without him, was unbearable. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. He wasn’t supposed to be the one left behind, no one was supposed to be left behind at all. And yet, here he was, alone in this empty library, with no one to turn to and no one to look after.

He thought of the words he had said so many times before, the words he had meant with every fiber of his being. “I will always be here, by your side.”

He had promised that, hadn’t he? To all of them. He had been their anchor, their constant, the one they could always rely on no matter what. He remembered the moments when they had leaned on him, seeking solace or guidance or simply the reassurance of his presence. He had been their safety net, their haven. And now… now there was no one left to knock on his door. No one left to sit in the quiet with him. No one left to reach out when the world felt too heavy to bear.

Kokichi let out a laugh that was full of bitterness and resentment focused on no one else but himself, even the sound itself was hollow in the emptiness of the library. “Whether you see me or not,” he echoed under his breath. They had been meant as reassurance; a promise that he would always be with them, a way to show that he cared about them. That he would always be there for them in their times of need. But now, it seemed that he needed them instead.

If he asked the universe for them, would they be here too? By his side? If they knew what he had done. If they knew what he was going to do. Would they stay? Would they be here? Despite him not seeing them, not remembering how they looked… only that they existed in his mind and heart.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands. The silence pressed down on him — heavier now, almost suffocating. He hated this. He hated being alone with his thoughts, hated the way they twisted and turned, dragging him deeper into the void. He couldn’t escape them, no matter how hard he tried.

What happens when I’m gone? The question dwelled in his mind. He didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to imagine a world where he wasn’t there to laugh with them, to comfort them, to be with them. But the thoughts wouldn’t stop. They came in waves, each one more overwhelming than the last, threatening to pull him under.

He didn’t even care if he was truly dead. He didn’t give a flying fuck about that. All he ever wanted was to know if his family was alright, if the bills were paid, if they were sleeping fine, if they were eating — surviving without him.

It didn’t help the fact that he was already contemplating doing that plan again. That he couldn’t just say “no” and escape and find them, that he couldn’t just pray to some forgotten deity to make sure they were okay.

He raised his head, his gaze falling on the book once more. It sat there, unmoving, its presence almost mocking. The poem told him to let go, to move on, to not mourn someone when they are gone, and Kokichi hated it. How could he ever ask them to do that? How could he ever tell them to let go of him, to forget him, when he couldn’t even imagine letting go of them?

His hand trembled as he reached out, brushing against the edges of the book before pulling back. He couldn’t bring himself to touch it, not again. Instead, he turned his gaze to the stack of books beside him, almost forgetting they were there when he had focused all his attention on this small book. The library — the air around him. It felt cold somehow, something so different to the warmth he had once known.

For a moment, he let himself imagine what it would be like if they were here. If the room wasn’t so empty, if the silence wasn’t so deafening. He could almost hear Diamonds and Hearts’ shared laughter, loud and boisterous, cutting through the gloom like a ray of sunshine. He could almost see Clubs and Spades sitting quietly in the corner, small knowing smiles on their faces, simply watching the chaos around them. He could almost feel Ace’s hand ruffling his hair, teasing him in that way that only Ace could.

But then the moment passed, and the room was empty once more.

Kokichi closed his eyes, leaning back in the chair as he let out a shaky breath. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep doing this — pretending that everything was fine, that he was fine. Because he wasn’t. Not really. Not anymore.

I miss them.

The silence stretched on, endless and unyielding, as Kokichi sat there, alone with his thoughts. He didn’t know how to make it stop, didn’t know how to quiet the storm raging inside him. All he could do was sit there, staring at the cracks in the ceiling, and hope that somehow, some way, the emptiness would fade.

But deep down, he wasn’t sure it ever would.

He got up, bringing the stack of books with him and leaving the poem behind on the table, not looking back for fear that it might break him again.

Lest the wise world should look into your moan

And mock you with me after I am gone.

— William Shakespeare.