Chapter Text
Ouma yawned as he lazily flipped through the pages of his sketchbook. It had been a while since he had picked it up, led alone drawn in it. He sat comfortably, wrapped in blankets as his eyes flickered between the boy sleeping by his side and his scrawled on the pages.
He was surprised when he had awoken before the detective, his memories of the previous night taking a moment to return to him. Ouma donned a shirt and shorts he hadn’t fallen asleep in, which made him giddy. He had expected that Shuuichi would take care of him; He always did.
Ouma had been sitting up for a while, now. Shuuichi usually never slept this long. The small boy had been occupying himself for nearly an hour before the detective finally stirred. Ouma felt a wave of satisfaction at being the first thing Shuuichi saw when he woke up; and at the blush that spread across his cheeks.
“Sleep well, my beloved?”
Shuuichi grumbled at the nickname, sensing the sarcasm in Kokichi’s voice. He snickered as the detective began to rise. Blankets fell from his shoulders as he sat up, exposing his shirtless chest. Ouma was grateful for the sight.
“What do you have there?” The detective inquired, boldly reaching over to tilt the book into his view. Ouma gave a brief shriek, causing Shuuichi to jump.
“Mind your manners, Shuuichi! This is top secret information, not meant for laymen such as yourself.”
“L-laymen?” Shuuichi scoffed, before shifting his gaze downward suddenly.
“Hm?” Ouma leaned in, tilting his head at the detective.
“I like it when you call me that.” He said while he fiddled with his thumbs.
“...Laymen?”
“N-no! By my first name.” Shuuichi sputtered as he fought off a blush.
Kokichi took a moment to process the words. Honestly, he hadn’t even realized he had been doing it. Even last night, it had just felt right. Kokichi felt a creeping sensation in his chest. There was so much floating in the air between them. There was no doubt they had hurt each other. They had said and done things that could never be erased. He could forgive him, but he wondered if he would ever be able to forgive himself. He had torn apart the two people he loved the most in this world in a fit of self-destructive rage. Neither of them had deserved it.
Shuuichi’s hand came to rest on Ouma’s, his thumb drawing circles on his skin.
“What’s wrong?” Shuuichi questioned. Ouma had the revelation that he had allowed his emotions to show on his face. Normally, Ouma would consider that a misstep on his part, but Shuuichi’s compassion crumbled his walls.
“I don’t think I deserve this. I don’t think I deserve you. ”
A sigh from the taller boy had Ouma wishing he had kept his mouth shut, but to his surprise, Shuuichi only pulled him close. Ouma remained still as the detective stroked his hair.
“I won’t say that the things you did were good, or even justifiable, but I’m not the perfect saint you seem to see me as. I know I’ve hurt you, too.” Shuuichi pressed him closer. Somehow, acknowledging the past out loud filled him with relief. “Even so, I want to be with you. But you seem to have the wrong idea. You think love is something you have to earn. Why is that?”
For the life of him, Kokichi could not think of an answer. He realized he had never once thought about it. It was his nature, probably. His nature was cold, abrasive, manipulative, toxic… He could go on. When it really came down to it, there was only one answer he could supply.
“Because… I am broken. And I’m so afraid that the poison that runs through my veins will infect you too.”
Shuuichi didn’t move a muscle, nor speak a word. Ouma began to feel his stomach twist from uncertainty. After an eternity, Shuuichi pulled back to look him in the eyes.
“You idiot.” Shuuichi snorted.
“Eh?” Ouma blinked back at him.
“You are not broken. You’re cold. You make rash decisions and you lie constantly. You put yourself before others; but none of that makes you broken. And you know what? Even if it did, that’s not what a relationship is about.” He spoke with confidence. “A relationship can’t fix you. It’s not meant to. All it means is that you will never be alone on the path to fixing yourself.”
The words struck a chord with Ouma. Like a slap to the face, he realized what he had been missing all along.
I can’t do this alone…
“So…” Ouma blinked, shifting to a lighthearted tone. “Is that your way of asking me out? Just kinda insulting me before throwing the word ‘relationship’ around so casually?”
Shuuichi was instantly thrown off course, eyes growing wide.
“That’s-”
“I wholeheartedly accept your barbaric confession! You’re now obligated to put up with me forever.”
The detective let out a laugh, and the sound soothed Ouma’s fast-beating heart. He felt all the past’s misunderstandings and heartbreak dissipating, leaving only warmth behind. Despite everything, Shuuichi really loved him. For the first time in his life, he felt worthy. Shuuichi had told him he was, and Shuuichi wasn’t a liar like him.
Ouma was enthralled in the golden abyss in Shuuichi’s eyes before he realized that the detective was no longer looking at him, his gaze fixed squarely on the open notebook in his lap.
Ouma closed the notebook with a slap, causing the boy beside him to jump. His heart fluttered, struggling to calm himself in the quiet moments that passed.
“...Did you see?” Ouma muttered, dreading the answer he already knew.
“Yeah. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” He averted his eyes in guilt. A wave of genuine embarrassment flowed over the smaller boy. Given the choice, he would rather die than let anyone see the contents of his sketchbook. Saihara had seen him in the most compromising positions possible, and yet this was somehow worse.
Stupid Shuuichi.
Shuuichi shifted under the covers, before crawling out of the bed. Ouma raised an eyebrow at him, but he continued towards his suitcase. He unzipped it, and pulled out a worn notebook. It was clearly not meant for art, like Kokichi’s. The detective stared down at the book thoughtfully, before reapproaching him.
“Here…” The detective opened the notebook to a specific page before offering it to his boyfriend. Ouma glanced at the neat handwriting sprawled across the page and gave him a curious look.
“What’s this?”
“I saw something private of yours, so, it’s only fair…” Shuuichi looked away as he handed the book off.
Kokichi took hold of the book, curiously scanning the page it was opened on. Realization sank in as he processed the words. He flipped to another page, and then another.
There were many entries, rarely skipping a day, and they all had one thing in common; Kokichi Ouma. All this time, Shuuichi had been thinking about him. He stopped on a certain entry that was much shorter than the rest. The date had been November 6th. His eyes were drawn to the last sentence.
To me, Kokichi Ouma is
The love of my life.
-
Kokichi stood alone as the bathroom filled with steam from the shower. He had excused himself to wash off around 10 minutes ago, yet he still stood completely dry with his clothes pooled on the cold tile at his feet.
Kokichi had felt like he was having the best high of his life. It amazed him how much his mood had turned around since yesterday. He and Shuuichi had spent the better half of the next few hours unpacking. They traded stories of what they had done over their respective vacations as well. Kokichi didn’t have much to report, but he felt elated at the spark in the detective’s eyes when he talked about seeing his uncle again.
“He would love to meet you.” Shuuichi had said.
The fact that Shuuichi was back, that he wouldn’t be alone anymore, finally hit him in full force. It was all a bit too much, and Kokichi began to grow sentimental.
He hated that feeling.
Not to mention the subject that had been nagging at the back of his mind since last night; Amami.
He realized with a touch of painful remorse that he hadn’t been able to think of his best friend at all since Shuuichi had gotten home. While he had no regrets about the choice he had made, but that didn’t mean it would be without consequence.
Sweat had begun to accumulate on his body, dripping from the swaying ends of his hair. The droplets fell to the ground in lieu the tears he held back. He had found a hope for the future in Shuuichi, but the despair of his past refused to leave him. His mind clouded over, only to be cleared as he heard Saihara’s voice from the other side of the door.
“Kokichi, is everything okay?”
He jumped slightly before collecting himself.
“Sure. Why do you ask?” He crammed his negative thoughts back into the crevices of his mind. He wanted to be his best for Shuuichi.
“Well… You’ve been in there for like thirty minutes.”
Whoops . Seems he lost track of time.
“Do you mind if I come in?” Shuuichi asked.
“You can.”
The door creaked open, and Kokichi turned his head to meet with a bewildered gaze. Shuuichi opened his mouth to speak, but Kokichi cut him off.
“Yes, I’ve been here the whole time. Yes, I’m fine.” It came out sounding too cold, too distant. Shuuichi raised an eyebrow at him, unaffected by the harsh treatment. Shuuichi began towards him. His movements were slow and unsure, as if approaching a wounded animal. His eyes stayed fixed to Ouma’s.
A hand gently caressed the nape of his neck as his boyfriend pressed their foreheads together. Kokichi closed his eyes, reflexively smiling into the intimacy.
“What’s bothering you?” Shuuichi asked, blatantly ignoring his previous claim. “Is it… Amami?” He treaded carefully, as if walking on pins.
“That too, I suppose.” He shrugged.
“I told you, you’re not alone anymore.” His boyfriend whispered, barely audible over the sound of running water. “If there’s anything on your mind, you can tell me.”
In that moment, Shuuichi Saihara was the only person he had ever wholeheartedly believed in his life of distrust and misguidance. He bit the inside of his cheeks to stop words from spewing from his mouth uncontrollably. There was so much he wanted to say, a massive weight on his chest that he had never allowed himself to speak aloud before. Not even to his best friend. He felt it all on the tip of his tongue, not quite knowing where to start; or even how.
The moment passed him by, secrecy once again sealing his lips.
“I think, if you really knew everything , you would change your mind about me.” That was all he could give. He saw a million images flashing before his eyes. Many times in the kaleidoscope of his memories he saw his mother’s face, his father’s alcohol, the kids Amami warned him not to hang around, the hospital rooms, all the things that filled him with dread. His mind stopped on his worst memory of all. Like an endless cycle, it repeated.
The one thing no one knows. The one thing no one should ever know.
His nails dug into his palms as the memory drudged itself out from the abyss he hid it inside. Saihara couldn’t have known better as he reached for his boyfriend’s hand, trying to comfort him.
“Stop!” Kokichi yanked his hand back. He saw only those dirty, disgusting hands reaching towards him. The foggy bathroom was now the bitingly cold asphalt on that quiet, disastrous night. He felt a stranger’s arms holding him back once again, and it all came back to him. “Don’t touch me!” He hollered the words, ducking down in defense. He forced his hands against his ears in a desperate attempt to get their atrocious laugher out of his head.
His breath hitched as he relived the night he had been violated. The night that changed him forever. The night that took his innocence away. Cornered like a rat, held down, and used. He felt bile rising in his throat.
“-so sorry! Kokichi, hey!” A voice cut through his nightmares. It was faded and far away. It couldn’t save him.
No one came to save him.
“Kokichi, please. Can you hear me?” The voice grew clearer, enough that he could hear the shakiness in it. “I-I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry!” His eyes snapped open and the scene disappeared as he recognized his boyfriend’s voice. He felt hot tears streaming down his cheeks, his head buried between his legs as he sat on the floor.
He looked up at Shuuichi, distress written on his face. He knelt close, but not too close.
“It’s not your fault, Shuuichi.” His voice cracked. “But there is something. Something I need to tell you, after all.”
Ouma felt safe from the memory in Shuuichi’s presence, but it still lingered. It would come back, as it always did. He took a deep breath as he thought about how good it had felt to speak aloud about their past earlier; the way the weight had lifted up. Maybe this would be the same.
Besides, his loving, caring boyfriend probably thinks this was all his fault. He couldn’t allow that.
“Anything.” The detective urged him on.
“Something happened to me a long time ago. Something I’ve never told anyone about.” He started slowly, losing his usual boldness as he faced his vulnerability head on. He hesitated for a while, and Shuuichi tolerated the silence. He struggled to produce words; normally his greatest weapon.
“In middle school, there was a girl named Tsumugi.” Kokichi began his recount of the story, knowing fully well that Shuuichi was already familiar with the girl. “You could say… she really had it out for me. And I suppose she had her reasons, but long story short, she ruined my life. She outed me to the entire study body, and it was pretty much downhill from there.” Kokichi felt unsure of himself, but he glanced at Shuuichi, who was giving him his undivided attention. Perhaps he just wasn’t used to telling the truth.
“That should’ve been it, but it wasn’t. She wanted me to suffer more. So, she…” The words stopped short of a sentence. He felt himself losing his nerve. Surely, it wasn’t too late to back out. He could make something up on the spot, and keep his truth hidden forever.
“Kokichi…” His voice was tender and understanding, reassuring Ouma. “You can tell me. There’s nothing that will change my mind, I promise you.”
It took a certain amount of willpower not to throw himself into Shuuichi’s arms after that statement. He instead cleared his throat.
Out with it, already.
“I have no real proof of this, but I believe she set me up to be assaulted.” Kokichi’s gaze shifted to the floor, no longer able to meet Shuuichi’s eyes. “Whether it was supposed to be sexual or not, I don’t know, but that’s how it ended up.” He couldn’t see his boyfriend’s reaction, but he heard the short gasp he expelled. There was no going back now. “They found me when I was alone at night- A group of guys, asshole jocks. You know the type. They were too strong, and I-”
He wiped the still-wet trails of tears from his cheeks, as he choked on another sob. He couldn’t bare to hold back anymore.
“They hurt me, Shuuichi! They hurt me so bad. And they told me I must’ve liked it. They forced me to! I didn’t want it. I didn’t! I hate them! I want them to die! They touched me, and it burned! They made me touch them, and they actually fucking got off on it! They’re sick. They’re the ones who enjoyed it, not me! I didn’t deserve it!” He screamed the words until he felt his throat go raw. He screamed every word into reality. Words that he never thought would come to life.
“I…” His voice broke down. The heat faded into a comforting ache. “I didn’t deserve it.” He repeated.
He inhaled and exhaled until he caught his breath. He had said it all; everything he held back for so many years. He had screamed it aloud, naked and crying on the bathroom floor with the love of his life as his witness.
And he began to laugh.
The same guilty, uncontrolled laughter that always landed him in trouble. He laughed until it wasn’t funny anymore, as if it ever had been. Yet, a smile remained on his face as he finally met Shuuichi’s gaze once more.
Tears. That was the first thing he noticed. His boyfriend harshly bit his lip, tears dripping from his face. He looked in pain, too.
“Kokichi… Can I-”
“Please…” He whimpered.
Shuuichi lunged forward, protectively pulling his small frame into his arms. Kokichi had guessed correctly, as he felt the absence of a weight on his chest. Replaced only by Saihara’s incessant squeezing. He could hardly breath as his boyfriend sobbed into his shoulder, running a hand gently through his hair.
This could never erase what had happened to him, but he realized this was the first step in accepting it. The first step in moving on.
“We’ll catch them. My uncle is a detective, Kokichi, we’ll definitely-”
“Shuuichi, calm down. It’s about 8 years too late for that, now. Besides, there’s no proof.” Kokichi explained, his composure returned. Shuuichi’s composure, however, was still at large.
“It’s not too late! What they did to you… I’ll never forgive it. They must’ve gone to your school, right? We can start the investigation with yearbooks, then! And if you truly think Tsumugi was involved, I can-”
“Shuuichi.” He groaned, letting his irritation be known. He simply rested his head upon the taller boy’s shoulder. “If you really wanna play detective, I suppose I won’t stop you. But for now… Can we just…?” He trailed off, begging for compliance.
“You’re right… Sorry.” Shuuichi voice was heavy with guilt.
Ouma lifted his head to face his boyfriend. He let out a soft sigh as he inched closer. “My beloved, there’s absolutely no reason for you to be sorry. I should be thanking you. It wasn’t a lie when I said I had never told anyone that before. Thank you… For listening.”
Shuuichi’s eyes grew watery as he listened to Ouma’s heartfelt confession. He closed the gap between them, kissing Kokichi as gently as ever.
-
Night finally fell on what felt like the longest day of his life. Shuuichi had thrown a fit when he had attempted to go to bed with damp hair after finally taking a shower. Once Shuuichi had thoroughly dried and combed his hair, the two of them finally settled down for the night.
Kokichi stared blissfully at his boyfriend’s sleeping face beside him. Shuuichi was definitely easy on the eyes. He had fallen fast asleep within seconds. Kokichi playfully poked the detective’s face, causing him to wrinkle his nose and brows. It was downright adorable.
However, as much as he would love to spend all night creeping on his boyfriend while he sleeps, he had something that he had to attend to.
In truth, he was glad Shuichi had fallen asleep so quickly, and he prodded at his sleeping face with the true intention of testing his alertness. Deciding it was safe to move, he carefully removed himself from the boy’s arms. He cringed as the bed creaked beneath him, stopping to reevaluate Shuuichi’s state every few seconds.
A sigh of relief escaped him as soon as he found his feet on the floor. He looked back at Shuuichi one last time. He felt a twinge of sadness, going behind his back like this. He told himself it was for the best.
“I’ll be back, my love.” He whispered.
Quickly, he slipped on a jacket and some shoes, collecting his phone on the way out of the room. He opened and closed the door with precision, avoiding unnecessary noise.
Once he was free, he steeled his nerves one last time for what was about to happen. Checking his phone for confirmation, he reread the text he had sent earlier.
Today 7:10 pm - You: Meet me outside around 11~ish tonite? Its important.
And of course, the reply.
Today 7:11 pm - Amami-chan <3: You know I’ll be there.
-
Kokichi held on to the sleeves of his sweater like his life depended on it as he walked down the empty halls. He chewed relentlessly on his lip.
He knew what he had to do, but it wasn't going to be easy. Not by a long shot.
He rounded the last corner, bringing him into the main entrance. The large glass doors stood as the only obstacle in his way. Without hesitation, he continued forward. As he got closer, he noted two things. He couldn’t see Amami-chan outside, and it was raining torrentially. However, he feared if he hesitated for a moment, he would lose his nerve.
He felt cold bite against his skin the moment the doors swung open, followed by a steady onslaught of raindrops. He would be drenched in minutes, but he couldn’t spare a thought for it. He walked a safe distance away from the building before planting himself firmly, beginning his wait.
It didn’t last long, as Rantaro had managed to sneak behind him, lowering himself to deliver an enthusiastic “Boo!” into his ear. Kokichi shrieked, whipping around to assault his friend with a swift chop to the head.
Amami let out a carefree laugh. Between the rain soaking his clothes and the bruise underneath his eye, his expression looked completely out of place. Ouma only wished he could preserve that smile forever.
“Amami-chan, what the hell…” He muttered grumpily.
“What, is it a crime to be happy to see you?” Rantaro’s tilted his head, still only inches away. Kokichi’s heart stuttered, and he fought the urge to push him away. “‘Cause if so…” His thoughts trailed off, ending with a concise shrug. A silence overtook them. Kokichi wasn’t sure where to start.
Instead, Rantaro began,
“Hey, remember that one time back in high school? It was raining buckets, just like this, and we just challenged each other to a dance-off in the middle of the road?” Rantaro began to ramble. Kokichi raised an eyebrow at him. He most certainly did remember, but it was not at all what he needed to be focusing on now… “I think the best part was that neither of us could even dance for shit. It was so much fun though.” The small boy felt himself being pulled into the familiar memory, stifling a smirk at the cringeworthy scene playing through his mind. “We should do it again…” Rantaro suggested.
Kokichi crossed his arms, shaking his head. “No, Rantaro, that’s not what I- Ah! Hey!” He tripped over himself as Rantaro grabbed his hands, pulling him further away from his objective. He looked up at Rantaro with offense, only to be met with a knowing gaze.
Is he…?
He dropped his frustrations instantly, allowing himself to be lead forward into a clumsy waltz.
“Sorry, I forgot about your ankle. I’ll go slow.”
And he did. He tentatively placed one of Kokichi’s hands on his waist, grasping the other firmly as he began to lull them into a rhythm. He pushed back gently, pulled him forward, and lead him cautiously. Kokichi refused eye contact, but allowed him to rest a hand on the small of his back as they danced.
He felt the urge to protest suppressed by how utterly peaceful he felt like this. They continued to sway, somewhat awkwardly, for some time. He felt himself getting carried away before, finally, he regained sight of his goal.
“Rantaro… You already know I didn’t come here to practice my dancing.” His eyes bored into the taller boy’s collarbones, slick with rain. He couldn’t bring himself to look anywhere else. Rantaro didn’t question him.
“Well, you definitely need it.”
“Not my fault I have a busted up ankle. It’s like having three left feet, dude.” Rantaro chuckled lightheartedly as Kokichi, true to his word, stumbled over his footing. He lurched forward, caught by Rantaro’s quick reflexes. The sudden closeness broke the spell he hadn’t realized he was under. He pushed himself away from his friend, ending their reminiscent dance as abruptly as it had begun.
“Rantaro, seriously.”
Rantaro’s smile faded. “‘Serious’ is right. This isn’t like you, Kokichi. You never call me Rantaro, anyways.” An edge of hostility found its way into Rantaro’s voice. Normally, Kokichi would bite back, but his conscience wouldn’t let him make this any more painful than it had to be for his best friend. He owed him that much.
“You already know why I called you out here, don’t you?” He asked, but it wasn’t really a question.
Rantaro shrugged. “I know you won’t look me in the eyes. That’s about it.”
As if challenged, Kokichi immediately locked gazes with the taller boy. He reeled at the sight. The boy’s mouth was forced into a grin, even as his eyes wavered with dejection. The truth was already behind them, threatening to break his facade. He looked as if barely hanging by a thread as the rain slipped down his skin. He felt a stab in his chest as Rantaro’s eyes begged Kokichi to lie to him.
But he refused.
“Come on. Let’s just dance, Kokichi.” He offered a hand, his voice tense, pleading. He felt the knife in chest twist. His thoughts were confirmed, that Rantaro was just delaying the inevitable.
“Stop changing the subject, Rantaro.” He watched as his friend’s hand felt back to his side, limp. His smile was gone, only indignation remaining.
Rantaro chewed his lower lip. “We can go back to my room and watch movies. There’s this new series-”
“Rantaro!” Kokichi began to ball his fists. Rantaro was just blatantly ignoring him now.
“Can’t we just-” Rantaro refused to give in, and Kokichi felt his blood turn to ice.
“I slept with Shuuichi, okay!?”
He cut him off with vicious force, feeling the ice in his veins immediately begin to sear. Realized hit him hard, and not even the cold rain could quell the burning of his skin. He had promised himself he wouldn’t lash out here, and now...
“Oh, God… Rantaro, I…” Kokichi stared wide-eyed at the taller boy. His heart sunk as he watched his expression fall to a numb composure.
“...I see.” Rantaro droned.
“No! You don’t see, okay? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said it like that, I-”
“What does it even matter?” Rantaro spat. “I was just a tool for you to use at your disposal. I knew you just wanted to make Saihara jealous. I served my purpose, so what does it matter how I’m feeling now?”
No… No!
Rantaro’s cold words left him frozen, helpless as Rantaro knelt to the ground in front of him. His breath hitched as he held his hand, placing a kiss to the back.
“You know… I would always do anything for you, Kokichi. I’m glad… I was of use to you.”
Before he could speak, an announced presence made itself known to both of them
“Kokichi!” The voice made him jump.
Why was Shuuichi here? Why now?
The grip on his hand tightened, and his heart began to race.
“Shuuichi, leave!” Ouma cried out, panic in his voice.
“What?” Shuuichi called back to him, concern ridden in his voice. The detective looked a disheveled mess, as if he had just jumped out of bed and thrown on the nearest clothes before running outside. The detective began to come closer, and Rantaro rose from the muddy ground he had knelt on. Kokichi missed his expression as he turned to face Saihara. He had, perhaps unintentionally, made himself a roadblock between the two of them.
“No… It’s fine.” Amami’s voice had a calmness to it that made the hairs on his neck stand up.
“What’s going on?” Shuuichi approached Ouma as closely as he could before the taller boy wouldn’t let him go any further. Ouma felt his pulse beating throughout his body as the two boys stood face to face. Though Amami stood a few inches taller than Shuuichi, the detective looked utterly unaffected.
“Let me through.” Shuuichi demanded.
“Why? Don’t wanna talk to me?” Rantaro smiled at him, feigning innocence.
“Listen, Amami, you need to back off. Kokichi and I-”
“Kokichi, huh?” Rantaro snorted. “Calm down, I already know you two fucked. There’s nothing I can do about it. I won’t stop him from doing what he wants. But let me get something straight with you…”
Shuuichi was taken aback, but allowed Rantaro to continue with an air of distrust. His eyes flickered to Kokichi, who could offer him no solace as he cast his eyes downward. Rantaro took the liberty to continue.
“If you want to take Kokichi from me, you can never leave his side… And if you ever hurt him…” Rantaro inched closer to Shuuichi, but if the detective was afraid, he refused to show it on his face. “I’ll kill you.”
“Rantaro!” Ouma was disturbed by the words, knowing the weight they carried when it came to Rantaro’s protectiveness.
“Deal.” Shuuichi didn’t hesitate. “Though, I would never hurt him. Not on purpose.”
“But you already have.” Rantaro retorted, voice growing lower.
“And you think you haven’t?” Shuuichi responded indignantly.
Kokichi cursed his boyfriend’s boldness. Everything that could’ve possibly been said between the two of them had already been said. There was only one other way they could release the tension that boiled over.
“What do you know!?” Amami wound his fist back, with every intention to strike at the boy before him. Shuuichi could only cover his face with his forearms before the impact.
“Augh!” A voice cried out in pain as the punch connected.
However, the voice was not Saihara’s.
Saihara gasped as Ouma’s body flew back against his own, sending them both to the ground.
“Kokichi!” Saihara cried desperately. The small boy’s face throbbed underneath his eye, where he had absorbed the blow intended for Shuuichi. He felt himself go weak, but Saihara’s arms supported him.
“Amami!” Saihara growled, his face twisted with ferocity Ouma hadn’t known he was capable of. His grip on Ouma tightened, and he began to stand. Ouma only pulled at the fabric of his shirt, begging him to stay.
“Please… Just, stop.” Ouma sighed. “Please… Stop fighting. Both of you mean so much to me, I just- I can't stand it anymore!” Pain tore at his face and his heart as tears welled up in his eyes, and he felt Saihara loosen up.
He heard the sound of something hitting the wet ground with a splash. Amami fell onto his knees, a look of disbelief on his teary-eyed face.
“Kokichi… Why? I- I’m so sorry, oh God…” His voice broke down as he stared at his unclenching fist.
Ouma began to remove himself from his boyfriend’s arms, making his way over to his best friend. He knelt beside him, picking his face back up with the palms of his hands. For that moment, it was just the two of them. Shuuichi cautiously backed away to give them space.
“I won’t say it’s okay…” Kokichi met his eyes, both with hot tears stinging their vision. “But, I kind of deserved it… To be fair.” He snickered through his falling tears. Rantaro’s face only twisted in guilt. He bit down hard on his lip, producing a drop of crimson. He shook his head violently.
“No… I should’ve never… I’m sorry, I couldn't control myself. It’s all my fault. I never wanted you to get hurt.” He sobbed.
“But you wanted Shuuichi to get hurt, right?”
He only began to sob harder. Kokichi gaped as he realized he was truly watching his best friend break down for the first time. He squeezed Rantaro’s face comfortingly. He wouldn’t forgive him for trying to hurt Shuuichi, but he couldn’t let him go through this alone. He knew what that felt like.
Rantaro’s breathing began to heave, and he grasped at Kokichi’s wrists as if trying to cement himself to reality. He wept on, and Kokichi had no plans to stop him. He knew Rantaro was hurting more than anyone else right now; even more than his own face hurt.
“Kokichi… I don’t want this.” He shook his head, continuously wracked by sobs. Kokichi felt a twinge of guilt. “I don’t want to be like him!” The small boy’s eyes widened as he realized Rantaro was no longer talking about their relationship.
“It makes me so sick… I-I’m just like him… I hate myself. I can’t control it!”
Kokichi realized something then. The reason he had never seen Rantaro like this before. He had been holding this back for years. All along, he had been suffering with it alone.
“Rantaro… Are you talking about… Your dad?” Kokichi questioned. Rantaro’s only response was another sob.
Kokichi pulled his best friend in close, holding his head against his chest as he continued to cry.
“Rantaro… Oh, God. I’m such an idiot. I’ve been so selfish. All this time, I never realized… You needed help. I was so stuck on my own issues. I never stopped to think about you.” The words tore him apart as he spoke them. He knew that meant that they were the truth.
He and Rantaro were never quite as different as he had thought, and that was never clearer than now.
“Rantaro… I can forgive you for punching me if you can forgive me for being the shittiest friend to ever walk this earth.” Rantaro’s quiet sobbing began to quell, but words seemed to fail him. He responded only by wrapping his arms around the smaller boy and holding him close. Like his life depended on him.
And they stayed that way for a long time. Shuuichi watched from a distance with sympathetic eyes as the two held each other and cried. The rain began to die down eventually, along with their pain. But they still didn’t move. Even after Kokichi began to lose feeling in his legs, and his breathing shortened from Rantaro’s tight hold, they didn’t dare let go.
“I’m so sorry… For everything.” Kokichi eventually whispered.
Rantaro dug his fingers into the wet cloth at Kokichi’s back.
“I’m sorry, too.”
Rantaro was the first to pull back, wiping his eyes. When he uncovered his face, Kokichi couldn't help but snort. He focused squarely on the purple bruise underneath Rantaro’s eyes.
“Hey, we match now!” Rantaro rolled his eyes, but let out a breath of laughter anyways.
“That’s so not funny.” Yet, Kokichi laughed anyways.
He heard gravel crunching as Shuuichi made his way back over to them. Kokichi had nearly forgotten his boyfriend’s presence, and resisted the urge to tense up as he approached. Shuuichi stopped before them, extending both of his hands outward for the taking. It took both boys on the ground by surprise.
“You two look absolutely ridiculous.” Shuuichi plainly stated.
Kokichi realized he was completely right as he took one of his hands, smiling brightly. Rantaro glanced at Shuuichi’s unoccupied hand before looking away. His eyes were filled with remorse.
“It’s okay. Shuuichi doesn’t bite.” Kokichi urged. Rantaro jumped a bit, embarrassment reddening his face. He glanced back at the hand offered to him, before taking it hesitantly. The detective hoisted both of them up off the ground at once.
“Now, then, should we go to a hospital?” He casually asked, causing Ouma to reel.
“No way! I’m beyond sick of hospitals at this point.”
Shuuichi rolled his eyes. “Well, we at least need to get you dried off… Again. Next time you’re going to run off in the middle of the night, at least leave a note. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”
Ouma gave a salute, before being ushered back towards the building by his boyfriend. After a few steps, however, Shuuichi stopped. He turned around, facing Amami-chan.
“Aren’t you coming?” The detective asked, sounding confused.
Rantaro let out a sound of surprise, his gaze flickering between the other two.
“Are you sure you want me to come?” He said, returning his gaze to the ground.
Saihara smiled. “I’m sure you’ll grow on me. Besides, we can’t just leave you out here.”
Kokichi smiled without realizing it. Saihara’s immediate acceptance of Amami-chan filled him with relief. Even if they could only tolerate each other for now, it was a step in the right direction.
“Come on, Amami-chan!” Ouma called out to him. They finally got through to him, it seems. He raised his head and began walking towards the two of them.
Everything that had just happened began to feel further and further away as the three of them headed back to the dorms in reflective silence. As they walked, Ouma slipped back towards Amami-chan. The taller boy paid him no mind, keeping his gaze fixed ahead.
“Hey, Amami-chan?” Kokichi’s voice dipped back to a serious tone.
“Yeah?” Amami answered, unsure what to expect.
“You were never just a tool to me. I just need you to know that.” He sincerely meant it. Amami’s gaze broke, moving to meet with Kokichi’s. He managed a small smile.
“Thanks.”
Maybe it would take a while for things to go back to normal after all of this. Weeks, months, maybe even years. Or maybe, they never would. Maybe their old normal would never exist again; hell, maybe that was for the best.
He could never know what lay ahead on the road he walked, but he knew for sure he would never have to face it alone again.