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“Y’know what? I’ve decided.” Kaito’s voice is wobbly, like he’s sunk into the water and speaking through the frozen surface against Kokichi’s fingers. It’s far away and echoing, getting louder with every one of his footsteps in his direction until it’s blaring right next to his ear. Like a worm in an apple, Kaito surrounds him in the most unpleasant way and he’s too weak to chew himself out. “If there are other universes, we’re going to be best friends.”
Kokichi takes a second, carefully picking the vowels out of the wracking of his breath in his chest, it goes about as well as a game of operation drunk. “What?” It’s like the green side of the sponge, his voice, that is. Kaito’s the yellow side - all mushy and wet. It’s as gross as he is, and as bright too.
Kaito won’t look at him, staring off in the distance like he can see something there. Maybe he’s embracing his dog side, seeing into the afterlife like they can. Staring Akamatsu in the eyes as he repeats back Kokichi’s phony melody. Kokichi pulls his legs tighter to his chest, that’s stupid, he chides, Kaito’s terrified of ghosts, he’d be pissing himself right now if he could see her.
He traces his finger over the edge of his book, pins and needles picking at his frozen skin, trying to stab some life back into his numbing limbs.
Kaito’s feet shuffle in the corner of his eye, “Well, I mean with your personality, you probably won’t have any-”
“Mean!” it’s purely reflex. He isn’t in any position to deny it. Though, that’s never really been one of Kokichi’s concerns - both the lack of friends and the lying attached to it. Lying has always come just as easy to him as truth-telling, even easier actually. Boring things like the truth were always just that: boring.
And friends…
“-And I don’t want you to be alone.” Kokichi snaps his eyes up.
Kaito only looks at him for a moment, magenta shining with something along the strain of affection, just long enough to leave him hanging off his eyelashes, back to staring forward, past anything Kokichi can see. That’s fine, he didn’t want to look at him anyway. Kokichi’s huff doesn’t sound any different than the rest of his labored breaths.
The page staring up at him is missing too many names. The same ones are repeated over and over, the writing getting more and more messy and unintelligible the longer the pencil scraws. The dialogue he's written out for everybody smudged together into a mess of poorly shaped kanji that even he as the author has trouble deciphering.
His joints ache as he turns the pencil around for the bitten down eraser, wearing it down even more so it retreats and hides in its metal sleeve. The sleeve catches on the page, scratching up the surface and despite the malleability of the paper it still sounds like nails on a chalkboard. There’s a dark smudge where the words were, vaguely blobular like water dripped onto the page, he glowers down, biting the inside of his cheek - his fingernails broke off too short to latch onto and latch to anything in turn.
“When I first met you, I’d written you off.” Kaito continues, though Kokichi doesn’t look at him. No shit, Kaito, he’d have to be blind not to know. That’s like saying the sky is blue. “I thought that you were just an immature brat who acted like a dick because he thought it was funny.” Sky’s orangey. Kokichi’s never been immature a day in his life. A dick sometimes, sure, there is a reason his subordinates called him a dickish dictator. Shocking! He knows, he wasn’t actually lying about that… They would probably miss him though, even just a little. If only they could see him now. What would they say if they knew of everything he’s done, would they appreciate his dedication or scorn him for what he’s become?
He’d take either option so long as he could see them one last time, not through the dingy monopad screen.
Kokichi bites down harder. He shouldn’t have watched the video as many times as he did, shouldn’t have fallen asleep to it playing like some terrible white noise; he shouldn’t recite it word for word by his deathbed.
“I should have known there was more to you than that…” Kaito sighs, it’s heavy with remorse, a set of faulty lungs worth. “Maybe if I’d seen that… none of this would have happened.”
Kokichi could remind him that “this” was his goal. Or at least something adjacent to it was. His goal was just an overall sentiment of wanting to end all of this, everything else was a failed attempt to litter over the floor and to walk around like metal jacks. He could also remind him that the mastermind would make sure the game kept going whether the two of them had a heart to heart or not and that he would eventually toss away whatever friendship they had for it.
“This”, in a noose sort of way, is the best outcome. 9, soon to be 11 people dead, is the best he could do.
He doesn’t say that though, not exactly. “You’re pretty self-centered if you think that’s all it would take.” He blinks slowly, his eyelids quick to fall but slow to open back up, so intent to lay him in the grave already, like they’ve been waiting for years in anticipation for the moment they can be rid of him for good.
There’s nothing to hear, just his own breathing and his heartbeat as it flickers weakly through his arteries. “How do you expect another universe’s you to know about your… promise?” Kokichi asks, grasping for something to fill the air. “Psychic beam it out to them?”
Kaito bites; a grin pulling up the side of his mouth, flashing his pearly decorative teeth. He looks like a clown stuck in the rain. Mouth pulled into an anguished frown, makeup stretched up into a smile. “Maybe.” Kaito nudges his foot with his slipper, “They’ll just know, trust me.”
He’s tempted to scoff, like he could really trust him on that. But, he sounds so genuine when he says it, like he truly believes he’ll unlock the secrets of dimensional email. It goes to show how desperate he is, clinging to the idea of another world he’ll never get to see - staring into Kokichi’s eyes as he smiles.
He makes the conscious decision to roll his eyes in his face and Kaito scoffs but he kneels down next to him, knocking their shoulders together as he sits. Kokichi watches through the corner of his eye as Kaito goes to rest his elbows behind him only to pull them close again when he remembers they’re leaning against the open press. He pulls his legs up again, pressing his script and pencil flush with his chest and resting his arms on his knees.
Kaito has one leg up, resting his hand on top and his other bent against the cold ground. He sits there for a second then snaps his fingers, “Hey!” Kaito turns his chest to face him with a dopey grin, a dog with a treat and a lightbulb glowing over its head, “You could be my sidekick!”
“Or you could kill me now.” Kokichi says back dryly.
Kaito chokes on his breath and it sounds like a choking seal, a little wet and very hairy. He feels something inside him croon with glee at his reaction but it disappears quickly as the coughs don’t stop coming. His shoulders seem to cave in on his chest and his hand flies to cover his mouth. Kaito’s eyes are closed shut, eyelashes dark with the tears brimming from the pain behind the shut curtains.
Kokichi tentatively reaches a shaking hand over, placing it down on his shoulder and rubbing circles with his thumb. He’s never been good at comforting people, every hug he’s ever given, he’d turned into a chokehold by the end. Kaito doesn’t seem to pick up on it, not as his breathing starts to level out and not when Kokichi has to remind himself not to tighten his grip.
“Sorry,” Kaito says, “You caught me off guard.” Pretending that’s all there was to it. “You're actually kind of funny.” He laughs and it’s way too sweet.
“You don’t have to say it like it’s some kind of revelation.” Kokichi hits Kaito’s shoulder where he was cradling it, Kaito leans away with another laugh.
If Kaito wants to pretend, he can too. “Of course, I’m funny!” Kokichi scoffs, making it sound as real as possible to his muddled brain, “How else would I have managed to enslave the Prime Minister of Canada?! Through luck? You insult me!” He turns his nose up and waits for Kaito to insult him and call him a liar.
“Nah,” Kaito shrugs, “I don’t think you do anything by luck.”
Well, he wasn’t expecting that. Kaito? Flattering him? Kokichi narrows his eyes, is he sure this is his Kaito? Maybe he should quiz him on space facts… but Kokichi doesn’t know any of the answers to see if they’re true. All he knows about space is that there are 7 planets. And stars are dead.
“Like,” Kaito continues, thankfully not looking his way, “You managed to come up with this whole complicated plan after having objectively the worst luck.”
Kokihi chooses not to start a debate over whether luck can actually be subject to objective terms. He instead makes the bitter, awful, impulsive decision, “I wouldn’t call Harukawa-chan’s murder attempt “bad luck” I’d call it premeditated.”
He cringes right after he says it. Way to go, Kokichi, ruining the mood again! He sends a tentative glance Kaito’s way and… yep! Kaito seems to share the same sentiment but he doesn’t say anything. He just looks like he’s holding a lemon between his clenched teeth.
Kokichi ignores how sour the words taste, “By the way,” He says, digging his grave with every bite. He’ll have two by the end of this. “If we were friends in another universe, which we wouldn’t be,” Kokichi sticks his finger in front of Kaito’s face in a shushing motion, “How would you keep murder-mitts from offing me a second time?” Kaito scowls at his finger, Kokichi dares him to bite it off, “As funny as putting her in a straight-jacket would be, it isn’t very cost effective.” He gives him a tight lipped smile, “The cost being her cutting our arms off.”
Kaito glowers and shoves him away by the head, ignoring Kokichi’s yelp at the manhandling. “Why are you so pessimistic?! God.” He drags a hand down his face, really pulling at the skin like it’s the source of his problems. Kokichi makes an incredibly half-hearted - more like eighteenth-hearted - attempt to fix his hair while Kaito massages his temples. “Think about it,” Kaito says like he’s negotiating with a stray cat, “if we were highschool, like a regular highschool not whatever the fuck this is, none of this would have happened.”
“No doy.”
“Shut up.” Kaito glares at him. Rude. Was he expecting applause for his obvious conclusion? He should have given him something to gawk at if he wanted a reaction. “I mean you wouldn’t have done all of the shitty things you did and,” He takes a shaky breath, “Harukawa wouldn’t have done- this-” He still can’t say it.
“Tried to kill me and shot us both with poisoned arrows?” Oma helpfully provides.
“Do you want me to list everything you did?!” Kaito snaps, it’s like a rubber band, it hits them both. Kokichi knows what he did, he doesn’t need the play by play. He did what he had to do, that’s all there is to it. The fact that it keeps him awake at night has nothing to do with anything. Having to force himself to walk past Gonta’s lab to prove to the mastermind he didn’t care was the easiest thing he’d done since the game started.
“Yes. That.” Kaito tries for a comforting look but he looks so worn out like clothes put through the dryer too many times, it just makes him want to shrivel up and sink into the floor. “If that universe did exist… there’d be no reason for us not to be friends, right?” Before Kokichi can say anything insulting (but true!) Kaito sends him a sly grin that he wears too well and shuts him up instantly, “Besides your shitty personality.”
“And your overbearing self-importance.” Kokichi grins back, matching him.
“Right.” Kaito doesn’t deny it, he nods like it’s a fact, “So we could totally be friends.”
Kokichi surprises himself with his laugh, “If that’s the conclusion you came to, I highly doubt we’ll be able to pull this off.” He doesn’t say it to be funny but he laughs over it anyway, a raspy sort of laugh that sounds so unlike him that he can’t take it seriously.
“Hey.” Kaito says gently, fingers reaching for his. He sounds worried, no doubt over his words, if Kokichi dies believing he can’t do it, how will he manage? Kokichi’s pretty sure Kaito survives off compliments, he might just break down. The thought makes him giggle some more and Kaito stares at him like he’s one of those fucked up sea creatures. “I won’t fail. You’ve done too much for me to fail you.”
He’s so earnest, it’s stupid. “You better not!” Kokichi wipes at his eyes, “If you do…” He trails off into one of his signature creepy faces to watch Kaito’s eyes widen in fear, “In that other universe, I’m gonna make you my servant! You’ll be my transport to and from school for all three years of attendance. Oh, and I'll make you carry my bag every day.” He adds as an afterthought, “And you’ll have to wear a horse mask 24/7.”
Kaito just stares at him blankly. Kokichi stares back with a grin. “Dude,” Kaito looks like he’s about to insult him, call him a freak or something along those lines but he doesn’t. Instead he just levels him with an ‘are you serious’ face and says, “I don’t own a car. You’d be getting bicycled.”
Did he just tune out after the second sentence? Talk about stupid, “Nishishi, then for the sake of my reputation, you better not mess up!”
“I wasn’t planning to anyway!” Kaito elbows him in the rib.
Kokichi snickers, leaning back against the press. Kaito huffs and crosses his arms. Silence stretches over them like a shadow as the seconds pass without interference. He could almost imagine it if he tried. The two of them, in a regular high school, fighting at every opportunity. Teacher’s worst nightmare duo. They would compete about everything, friends needing to hold them back from disrupting everyone around them.
He almost laughs at the thought. Saihara would be diffusing like he was at the beginning, so would Akamatsu if she were there, though she’d think it was a little funny. Kokichi could have his subordinates back, causing mayhem in his free period. Tojo would be able to talk to Hoshi again like they did before, so would Shinguji and Yonaga though his issues might have travelled over. Amami would finally get to know everyone.
He skips over Iruma and Gonta. He doesn’t want to think about them, but he knows they would be happy.
This moment, he could be sitting on the floor of an empty classroom, sun setting and painting the sky in brilliant shades of reds and oranges, seen through the windows lining the wall. Cleaning duty abandoned to argue themselves into exhaustion, nobody would have reasonably expected any better though, knowing the two of them.
They could lean against the wall, watching the color spread into the classroom, shoulders brushing every time one of them shifts. Hands twitching where they rest against the wooden floor, fingers hovering right next to each other, close enough to feel the other's warmth. Too afraid to break the silence and say something to ruin the mood.
Kaito turns to him slowly, magenta meeting indigo, bathed in sunset.
“Oma…” He can feel his breath against his lips from how close they are, warmth in every exhale. A lingering smell of blood. “Oma-”
That’s impossible though. “Welp!” Kokichi claps his hands together, it rings out in the empty room like a dish breaking against tile and sending ceramic flying. “Let’s get to crushing!” It doesn’t feel like anything. There’s no emotion associated with anything he’s saying. It just feels empty.
He doesn’t look at Kaito’s face as he hurries to stand, he makes a point out of not looking as he winces at the stretch on the gaping hole in his back. A large hand encircles his own, tugging him back from marching away to the control panel. He tries once to yank away but his arm hardly moves, not because Kaito’s too strong or he’s too weak. Kokichi just doesn’t really want to be rid of him.
“Oma, listen-” Kaito’s not doing a good job hiding. His eyes, so remarkably honest, shine with tears begging to fall.
“No.” Kokichi doesn’t want to look, he doesn't want to see Kaito mourning him and whatever they could have been. This isn't something he can change even if he could, even if he wanted to. At this point, he's almost been waiting to die. “I don’t want to hear you apologize. And I don’t want to hear a good bye either.”
Kaito pleads, “Can’t we wait, at least. Until…” Until the poison takes over. That’ll take too long, the electrobomb won’t last that long. He knows it, Kaito knows it. Selfishly, Kokichi doesn’t want it to kill him. He’d rather die by something of his own making. He’d rather die by Kaito’s hands. “I can’t-” Words live and die on Kaito's tongue, unable to take any root or be anything meaningful. “I can’t just let you go without doing anything!”
“You are doing something.” Kokichi tries to pull away, ignoring how his shoulders cave in and shake, how heavy all his limbs feel and how hard it is to move away from the only comfort he has, “You’re helping me.”
“Can I ask you to stay?” Kaito’s grasping his shoulder, trying desperately to get through to him, “Please.” Kokichi won’t look up past his mouth, he can’t look him in the eye. He doesn’t need to, stray tears are already running down his too pale skin. It’s lost his healthy glow, stretched much too thin then left to crumple. “Can I please just ask?”
He doesn’t answer.
His grip is bruising and much warmer than his own. It’s a warmth that won’t last, for either of them. “Then what am I supposed to say?”
Kokichi smiles bitterly, ripping his hand away. It's freezing cold and painfully numb. “Nothing.”