Work Text:
Kokichi wakes up gasping for air.
His lungs burn like they’re full of ash, his throat tight and raw as if he’s been screaming for hours. He claws at the sheets, fingers gripping fabric so hard, his fingers ache. His heart feels like it’s trying to break out of his ribcage.
For a terrifying half-second, he thought he had woken up there. In that room.
He thought he was standing in that ruined courtroom, lights flickering overhead, the Monokuma monitors grinning down at him. The bitter taste of the antidote felt real on his tongue, he watched with his own eyes Kaito Momota—luminary of the stars, idiot hero, Kaito—collapse in front of him.
“Kokichi.”
The interjection cuts through the panic like a lifeline.
Warm hands grip his shoulders, solid and unmistakably alive. Kokichi gasps, sucking in air that doesn’t burn, air that smells faintly of detergent and the cold night air drifting in through an open window.
“Hey. Hey, you’re okay,” Kaito says, voice low and steady. “You’re here. With me.”
Kokichi blinks wildly. The room swims into focus: their bedroom, dimly lit by moonlight. Posters on the wall - space, constellations, dumb motivational quotes Kaito insists on keeping, alongside miscellaneous merchandise that Kokichi collects of the random animes and mangas he hyperfixates on for a month. The sound of breathing that isn’t his own.
Kaito is kneeling beside the bed, one knee on the mattress, one hand still gripping Kokichi’s shoulder while the other hovers uncertainly near his chest, like he’s debating whether to pull him into a hug or give him space.
Alive.
Kokichi’s chest seizes.
He lunges forward without thinking, burying his face into Kaito’s shoulder, fingers clutching at his shirt like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.
“I didn’t mean to,” he gasps, words spilling out broken and raw. “I didn’t- Kaito, I didn’t know, I thought- I was only pretending to-”
“Hey,” Kaito murmurs, arms coming around him immediately. “Hey. Slow down. Breathe.”
Kokichi shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut. The images are still there, stamped into the backs of his eyelids.
Kaito coughing after collapsing, blood pooling around him.
Maki screaming as Monokuma drags her away, her execution playing on loop until Kokichi can’t hear anything else.
Shuichi on his knees, eyes empty. Himiko not crying at all. Kiibo completely succumbing to despair.
And Tsumugi - smiling.
Congratulating them.
Telling them they’d won.
“No,” Kokichi whispers hoarsely. “We lost. Everyone lost. And then it started again. Another killing game. I couldn’t stop it. I had a target on my back. I couldn’t-”
His voice breaks.
Kaito tightens his grip, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of Kokichi’s head, pressing his face gently into the crook of his neck.
“That didn’t happen,” Kaito says firmly. “None of that happened.”
Kokichi’s fingers curl tighter around his shirt. “But it could have. It was my fault. My plan- if Shuichi hadn’t-”
“I know,” Kaito interrupts softly. “But he did, and Shuichi, Maki-roll, Himiko and the rest of us managed to end Danganronpa for good.”
Kaito pulls back just enough to look at him, eyes dark and serious in the low light, no trace of anger in them—only concern, and something gentler, sadder.
“Kokichi,” he says, “I know the past still haunts you, but the killing game was years ago. You are not the same person you once were”
The words hit harder than Kokichi expects.
Years ago.
The killing game. The lies. The courtroom where Kokichi played the villain so convincingly even he almost believed it. The plan to end everything by becoming the ultimate enemy. The moment Kaito chose to stand against him - and then die because of it.
Everyone (with the exception of Kiibo who was an AI specifically created for the killing game) may have survived their stint in the virtual world they had been placed in, but it had taken months of both physical and emotional therapy to patch everyone up. For Kokichi to feel like he was worthy of living again.
“I never asked you though,” Kokichi whispers. “I never apologised in the moment. I never asked if you consented to being roped into my crazy plan, I just went full steam ahead. Typical me, huh?”
Kaito shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter; you apologised as soon as you were conscious enough to do so.”
“That’s not-” Kokichi swallows. “That’s not the same.”
Kaito shifts, sitting back against the headboard and tugging Kokichi with him, until Kokichi is curled into his chest, listening to the steady, reassuring beat of his heart.
“I was angry,” Kaito admits. “Back then. I was hurt. Scared. I didn’t understand why you’d put yourself in that position.”
Kokichi flinches.
“But I get it now,” Kaito continues. “You were trying to save everyone. In the dumbest, most self-destructive way possible - but that’s kind of your specialty.”
A weak, broken laugh slips out of Kokichi before he can stop it.
Kaito smiles faintly. “I forgave you a long time ago.”
Kokichi looks up at him, eyes shining. “You did?”
“Yeah,” Kaito says simply. “I just didn’t know you still needed to hear it.”
The silence that follows is heavy but not suffocating. Kaito reaches up and brushes his thumb under Kokichi’s eye, wiping away tears Kokichi hadn’t realized were falling.
“You were terrified,” Kaito says. “Not evil. Not heartless. Just… scared. And alone.”
Kokichi’s breath shudders. “In the dream, you looked at me like you knew. Like you knew I took it. And you still smiled.”
Kaito’s expression softens painfully. “Sounds like something I’d do.”
“I couldn’t stand it,” Kokichi whispers. “Watching you die because of me. Watching everyone fall apart. And then Tsumugi - she said we deserved it. That we were perfect for another season.”
Kaito’s jaw tightens. “It was a nightmare for a reason.”
Kokichi nods weakly. “I woke up thinking I was still there. That I’d ruined everything.”
Kaito leans down, forehead resting against Kokichi’s. “You didn’t.”
Their breaths mingle, close enough that Kokichi can see the tiny scar near Kaito’s eyebrow, can feel the larger man’s eyelashes batting against his forehead.
“I love you,” Kaito says quietly. “Not in spite of your past. But because of how far you have overcome it, you are a good person Kokichi, even if you don’t believe me when I say it.”
Kokichi’s throat tightens. He stares at Kaito like he’s afraid he’ll vanish if he looks away.
“You… love me,” he repeats, voice small.
Kaito chuckles softly. “Yeah. Shocking, I know considering we’ve been dating for the last two years.”
Kokichi presses his forehead harder against Kaito’s, a fragile smile trembling on his lips. “I’m scared they’ll come back,” he admits. “The dreams. The guilt. The not feeling like a person again.”
“Then I’ll wake you up again,” Kaito says without hesitation. “As many times as it takes. And I’ll remind you every day that you deserve to be happy because you are a person worthy of love Kichi, even if you act like a little shit ninety percent of time.”
“You love it.” Kokichi scoffs, letting himself relaxing, fully sinking into Kaito’s arms as the last remnants of the nightmare fade. “Love you too.”
Kaito chuckles at the uncharacteristically sweet moment and plants a kiss on his boyfriend’s cheek.
Their relationship may not be perfect, not even close to it. It may even be dysfunctional at times.
But over the last few years they have committed to each other, truly committed.
And that is all that matters.