Chapter Text
His plan was fool proof… Almost.
Unfortunately, that was never the case, ever.
He may as well be retitled as the ultimate bad luck with how awfully his plans have gone out within the past few weeks.
To start with some context:
Kokichi had always been the smarter of the bunch especially now their numbers are down. Saihara was the big competitor on his level but that doesn’t matter. All that matters is that Kokichi had a plan, a plan that he was so sure would work completely in his favour to finally patch up this stupid killing game. Nobody had trusted him anyway so adding the fact that he may or may not be the mastermind into the mix wouldn’t be that big of a deal, right?
He stepped out of his dorm to go join the others at breakfast.
They’d been slowly filed down until there was only 9 students left in the Ultimate Academy. Who thought a killing game would be so effective!
He might’ve been impressed, if only he wasn’t stuck in it like the rest of them. Well, whatever, no time like the present.
As he was walking through the corridors, he passed a certain blue-haired, pinstripe wearing, detective and fought with himself not to throw him a passing smile as he skipped past. Atua, Kokichi was so gone.
He strolled into the dining area (if you could even call it that considering it was just an empty room with a big table shoved into it. Seriously there was more plants and growth in here than outside and thats saying something) and took a seat at the cold, metal table structure.
As he sat, he slowly counted the people using the room at that moment. One, Momota, two, Harukawa, three, Iruma, four, Kiibo.
He hadn’t expected Yumeno to be in the room yet. She always slept in unbearably late and she’d had quite a traumatic few days (sorry Angie-san, Chabishira-san) so he didn’t blame her for wanting a particularly tear-soaked lie in.
He turned his head to spot Saihara walking into the dining room after his moment outside, rubbing his eyes.
An annoyingly loud voice spoke from across the hall
“Mornin’ Sidekick!”
Of course he wasn’t letting that one go. Saihara gave a polite smile and sat down beside Momota, annoyingly, he would’ve preferred Shuichi sat with him, but, beggars can’t be choosers I guess, before staring off into space while tapping the table.
He finished his sugar-loaded breakfast and stood up to take his plate to the sink, narrowly missing the sixty seven vines on the floor. Atua, this stupid place! He rinsed off the plate before placing it in the overflowing washing up bowl.
“Jeez, you guys! Whoever was last on clean up duty slacked! Like majorly!”
He got four looks of disdain and one heavy sigh.
“Probably because you were last on clean up. Seriously I don’t understand why we even try with you. Waste of food and oxygen.” Harukawa spat at him.
As charming as ever.
“Oh, well.” He shrugged, “Not even my fault, I fell asleep.” He scrunched up his nose waiting for impact but nothing came. He giggled and skipped out the room, thoroughly enjoying how much annoyance he was causing.
His giggly facade dropped as soon as he walked out the room.
He was making himself a target and he knew that. Time to make it worse.
Kokichi ran to his room, unlocked the door, grabbed three sheets of blue paper before stuffing them into his, oddly large, pockets. All three pieces fit into his left trouser pocket with minimal folding (maybe they really were bigger on the inside! How cool!) and he set off on a specific journey.
He moved to the library, his planning place.
People didn’t come in here anymore after Amami’s murder, which made it the most perfect hiding spot for doing out-in-the-open-hiding (it was his new, made-up technique) where nobody would find you.
He pulled out a purple notepad and started writing notes in glittery ink (what?) about his plan, people to trust and equipment he’d need. Easy, right? LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER!! The library doors opened and Kokichi grabbed the nearest book (A Series Of Unfortunate Events… how fitting) to stuff his face into.
He wasn’t surprised when a mass of blue and black walked through the doors. He grumbled under his breath before putting the act on.
“Hellooo Saihara-chan!!” He threw out his arm for a big wave.
Saihara stopped and sighed before throwing a slight wave back (score!!).
“Hi, Ouma-kun. I didn’t think anyone came in here anymore.”
“Well I’m extremely intelligent and wanted to read up on some things,” He took one look at the cover and spine for the name before continuing, “and knowing our situation some unfortunate events taking place in fiction might help me combat the ones in reality!”
He had an obnoxious grin on his face.
Saihara stared at him for a minute before shaking his head and walking over to the mystery novels.
Kokichi used this as his excuse to get the hell out of there before he spontaneously combusted and exploded and died. Hopefully Iruma was out of the dining hall and in her Ultimate Lab by now.
He rounded a corner to find the metallic door firmly closed. Perfect!
He pounded and pounded on the door with both his hands, feet and head.
“Iruma-san!! Let me in you stupid whore, I have a preposition!!”
The door rattled and slowly opened. Yay! Knew she was too horny to resist a man knocking at her door.
“There you are! Took you a while, you bitch.”
Iruma groaned and motioned for him to get lost.
“Your ‘preposition’ better be fuckin’ good, Ouma, otherwise theres gonna be another shittin’ class trial!!”
He stared at her before laughing.
“Hahaha!! You’re so funny, Iruma-san! Like you’d be able to take me down!”
She groaned again.
“Ouma, I swear to Atua if you don’t shut the fuck up and tell me what you want I’m hiring murder girl to come snap your neck!!”
He swallowed. “Okay, okay jeez!!” He pulled out his blueprints. They were meticulously drawn, shaded and labeled with all the correct functions and parts. It helped having an organisation full of people with different talents because if Hearts wasn’t a mechanic these would’ve looked like straight ass.
He shoved them in her hands and giggled.
She stared at them for a minute before nodding.
“These are good. Hey! You should be my wacky, little sidekick like Saihara’s Momota’s!”
He gagged.
“Ewww!! No way!! Good luck with that, you slut!!” He grimaced before continuing, “Well? Come on! Will you make them or not??”
She squealed before nodding exasperately.
“Yes, fine fine!! Just fuckin’ leave me be already!! Atua!!”
He rolled his eyes and made his way out the room, making sure to insult Iruma-san as much as he could as he went.
The door slammed behind him and ‘clanked’ shut so that he knew it was locked.
Perfect. Plan in motion.
He skipped out of her Ultimate Lab and went straight into his room (which he forgot to lock, so much for protecting his privacy) to go adjust Iruma’s tag on his whiteboard.
His whiteboard was his prized possession.
It had details on everybody in the killing game based on what he had been able to deduct from understanding of character and what they had told him during ‘bonding time’ (euck!!).
It also had the specific details from the monopads. These contained things like height, weight, chest size, sex, yada yada whatever whatever. It also had pictures of all his classmates. Not weird ones, just headshots he had printed out from the schools computer system on a random Tuesday while he was bored.
He bit his nail and crossed off yesterday on his calender.
If he was correct, which he often was, they’d been here, consciously, for just about 5 months.
5 months. 4 murders. 3 culprits.
Some of them hadn’t been surprising. He always knew Shinguji was an absolute creep and Toujo (mum) was so obsessed with her role that it was obvious once a motive came in she’d be raring to go and murder but Akamatsu had thrown him.
Lovely Akamatsu, who’d known all of us a day and was already using motivation tactics to get everybodys spirits up.
I mean she was already calling him ‘Kokichi’ by day two, and then she goes and murders somebody in cold blood! Weirdddd.
He always thought it was weird Amami was holding his monopad in the photos Saihara took and then suddenly it was in his pocket… Odd..
Anyway! No time for that. He had a mission set and ready.
He rubbed off the “Suspicious” that was written under Iruma’s name and instead wrote “Trustworthy?” before thinking on it for a minute and then rubbing it out. No. She wasn’t trustworthy yet. That wasn’t the right word. He wrote a stark “Useful.” underneath and sat down onto his bed.
He sighed and collapsed onto the cushions.