A/N:
over a year later, and another chapter is here.
anyway. happy (incredibly late) birthday to kokichi ouma. i've had this idea sitting around for a while, and i meant to finish it back in June, but here we are.
one more thing: this is a normal high school setting, kiibo is still a robot, and many details are just for the sake of this one-shot, so they're not accurate to the game.
Shuichi Saihara
White. A foggy, misty white. A white interpolated by dozens of fluttering fireworks clumped together. A specific white without a label, but the kind of white Shuichi knew all too well.
A frigid, asphyxiating white.
Piercing through that bottled dome of white was a concentrated blade of pale, morning sunlight. The sun had just cut over the horizon, flooding Shuichi's classroom with an abrupt fan of blinding light.
Glancing down at his shaking hands—Shuichi was uncertain if the shakiness was caused by his hands or his fickle vision—he felt his ribs act as a vice on his lungs as he recalled what had transpired merely minutes ago:
After exchanging his outside shoes for his school shoes, Shuichi promptly discovered something white and paper-like peeking out from his locker. Upon unlocking the door, he extracted an envelope and turned it to face him. The envelope read:
Open this in your math class.
With piqued curiosity and raised brows, Shuichi shut his locker with a click and made his way to the second floor of his high school. He'd never received a note in his locker before, and he wondered why the directions on the envelope were so specific. Yet, all he could do was enter his math class and set his bag at his desk.
Then, bringing the envelope to the surface of his desk, Shuichi nodded and tore through the adhesive sealing away the contents of the envelope. Reaching inside with a crinkle here and there, Shuichi slid out a paper lined from top to bottom with handwritten words. He arched a brow and turned over the paper to see more text swallowing up the white sheet.
This…is really all for me? pondered Shuichi. Ah. It's addressed to me. Oh. This is definitely from Kokichi…
Hey, Mr. Shuichi Saihara Detective Guy!
Shuichi paused to expel a sigh. No one else calls me such a long name…except for Kokichi.
So, guess what today is? My birthday! No, I'm not asking you to give me anything, if that's what you were thinking. See, I actually have something to confess.
You know how I always annoyed Kaede by playing the piano like an alien dancing on the keys? How she always had to correct my horrendous playing? How she banned me from using the piano in the music room at some point because I was "abusing it?"
For a moment, Shuichi paused. I can tell it's Kokichi who wrote this, but it doesn't quite sound like him?
Well, I just wanted to find a way for her to teach me to play without having to ask. Why didn't I just ask? We all know she'd say no, silly! But I mean, learning a new skill is cool and all, but I wanted an excuse to spend more time with her. I wanted her to be proud of me for making progress. I wanted her to be happy that I was interested in the thing she loves. And that's why I was so annoying to her.
I always teased Kiibo and pushed his buttons…literally and figuratively! I always insulted him too. Well, I wanted him to be thinking about me, in a good way or a bad way. I wanted his robo-brain to be wired for thinking about me. Friend or foe of a robot, don't you think it's incredible that we have an actual robot here with us? Who wouldn't wanna be the center of the robot's attention? Analyze me, Kiibo! But I was also curious if Kiibo had the capacity to get so enraged to the point he went berserk. I wanted to test his limits and see how he adapted to me. I wanted to make a contribution to his development. And that's why I was such a pest to that silly robot.
I always made Kirumi serve me like a king. I gave silly request after silly request, knowing she could fulfil them all. I made her make lunches for me. I made her wash my uniforms. I made her make my sandwiches in such specific manners every time. I made her treat me like I was her annoying, bratty, spoiled kid. Well, y'know, I actually don't have a mom, Shuichi. I did, but she died when I was eight. My father left my mother after she got pregnant with me. We were poor as shit. I stole and learned to pick locks because of that. And then my mom got sick, and she died. We couldn't afford any medicine. So, I just had to watch her die. Is it so wrong I longed for just a little bit of motherly love, even if Kirumi was just doing as I told her to? Yeah, yeah, I know it was shitty of me. But I always did something for her in return. It was never anything spectacular, but I did the best I could. She gave me her all, so I did too. And that's why it sucks that, even though I tried so hard, the origami I made was shitty, the food I made was shitty, the things I sewed were shitty (even though I got help from both her and Tsumugi), the magic tricks I tried from Himiko were shitty. Everything was so shitty compared to the things she did for me…
Hey, speaking of Himiko! She's so funny. She lives in her own little world of magic and spells, and she always animates that for us all. So, you know how I was always rude to her and extra harsh on her sometimes? How I always ruined the fun by explaining all the tricks of her magic tricks? How I sometimes made her cry? I don't even blame poor ol' Himiko for plugging fantasy into reality. Reality's cruel. Bad feelings just suck, y'know? Why feel pain and sorrow when you could suppress it and feel nothing? And wouldn't you rather say someone just slipped on ketchup after getting hit with wind magic instead of saying someone was murdered by, oh, I dunno, maybe someone with a shotput ball, and their head got bashed in by that blunt object? That's not a very pretty picture! But it's the truth. I didn't want Himiko to get completely trapped in her own world of denial, delusion, and illusion. And that's why I was so hurtful towards her.
Oh, silly bug boy Gonta. So, you all know how I treated him like he was a stupid monkey. Like a gullible meatshield. Like a sentient blob of matter. How I called him names and proceeded to order him around. How I seemed to just be using him because he was "just that stupid." How I never seemed to actually value him as a human and a friend. Look, truth be told, I was scared, Shuichi, but I didn't wanna admit that. I don't even wanna admit that now. I never wanted to say it. But I sometimes got bullied. Did I deserve it? Yeah. But I'm afraid of the pain. And they kept going, even after they'd given me my punishment. They know I'm weak. They know they can beat the shit out of me, and they know there's nothing I can do. Y'know, I laugh it off and say "these are my battle scars from the enemies I've faced with my colleagues!" But, well, it's nothing like that. Nothing so grandiose. It's just pathetic, isn't it, Shuichi? So, I got closer to Gonta, and they stopped messing with me. But I got so damn insecure about the fact that I needed him just to feel safe. So, I took it out on him and called him shitty names and did shitty things to him when all he ever was was nice to me.
I'm a fucking mistake, Shuichi.
Feeling his chest tighten and his pulse quicken, Shuichi swallowed the lump in his throat. What? I had no idea. But, then again…I can't be certain this isn't a prank. Something tells me that it isn't, though. I'm seeing less and less of what makes this letter sound like Kokichi. It doesn't excuse what he's done, but I'm starting to understand why he is the way that he is…assuming this is all true. Shuichi read the most recent sentence he'd seen again. He shouldn't have to feel like he's a mistake, even if he's done some horrible things.
And that's why I used Gonta.
Y'know, I could talk about everyone from our class, but time's kinda running out, so I'm gonna have to skip to you, Shuichi. You know how I lied to you the most? How I was so clingy? How I always got in your way? How I was always so rude to you? How I always vetoed specifically your ideas? How I always cold-called you? You know it all too well. Shuichi, I wanted to be the thing that got you to step up and be more assertive. I wanted to hear you chew me out and give me shit for being a nuisance all the time. If I'd told you that, it would've ruined the whole point since you'd have been aware of my goal. So, I couldn't tell you. But I also just wanted you to take an interest with that detective brain of yours in figuring out why I've been treating you like shit. I wanted you to notice. I wanted you to see the signs I was giving for hints and for help. I wanted help, Shuichi, and I only trusted you with that. I know, it's selfish and absurd, isn't it? But I admire you. I do, Shuichi. Well, who's to say that isn't a lie? But I know I never deserved that help in the first place, considering I was shitty enough to do this all just to avoid showing the fact that I'm fucking weak. And that's why I'm writing this letter, Shuichi.
Turning over the paper, Shuichi's mind clouded up with a suffocating fog.
I can't take it anymore. I know what I've done. I know… You don't have to tell me. I was a shitty person to everyone, and I'm sorry. I can't change what's already been done. I know I genuinely hurt you all. Nothing can excuse that fact. I know. And I feel like shit. I've felt so shitty for so long, knowing I could live with being so cruel. I really am just a petty thief, huh?
And that's why I'm saying goodbye.
I planned to do this on my birthday as a gift to myself and to all of you. I know it'll make you all happier, and that's all I could ask for. None of you need me, care about me, or want me. Why would you when all I've done is treat you guys like shit? So…
Look outside, Shuichi.
White. An all-encompassing inferno of white.
Haha, I can see you…probably. Do you see me?
Rubbing his twitching, burning, watering eyes, Shuichi stared at the wall, nonplussed. He didn't want to look outside. He didn't want to see the truth. He didn't want to face reality.
Glancing down at his shaking hands—Shuichi was uncertain if the shakiness was caused by his hands or his fickle vision—he felt his ribs act as a vice on his lungs as he recalled what had transpired merely minutes ago.
Then, plucking up the courage to peer out the sun-stained window, Shuichi scoured the world outside his high school building for Kokichi.
Need a hint? Look up. I'm waiting for you.
Finally drawing his eyes to the small figure standing on the rooftop of one of the school wings, Shuichi's mouth was slathered in a sour, tar-like sensation and taste. Upon closer inspection, he noticed something peculiar about the figure dressed in white: that figure was holding something that obscured its face.
I probably see you, Shuichi. With my binoculars, that is. I had this all planned out, so don't make this be for nothing, okay? I'm doing this for you and everyone else, Shuichi. Happy birthday to me.
Paralyzed like a deer in the headlights, Shuichi wanted to bellow out Kokichi's name, but all he could do was watch as Kokichi waved at him. Then, without any parting words, Kokichi leapt from the rooftop.
And that's why I didn't lie once in this entire letter.
Goodbye, Shuichi.