usononikki | [Fic] Schrodinger's Taro

This first time it happened really was unplanned. He swore it to himself up and down.

Kokichi had stared in disbelief at the blood spattered across the bookcase, pooling on the floor beneath a head of green hair. They'd eaten lunch together. He'd chased Kokichi around his room after he'd swiped the notepad from his back pocket during their final planning session. Kokichi still had that notepad squirreled away in his bathroom.

That was before Kokichi knew what he knew now.

Or maybe it wasn't.

He'd changed the outcome the second time. (Or was it the third?) Every time, Kokichi changed it. Kept his Taro-kun safe. Every time, he'd cling to Taro-kun, feel the weight of his body, the rise and fall of his chest as the seconds counted down to Nighttime the same as they always had.

Kokichi woke up the next morning in a cold bed. Had he made it to bed this time? That was rare. (It wasn't that rare, was it?) He still wasn't used to the routine of the morning announcements. He staggered groggily to the mirror to fix up his clothes and make himself presentable. Out of the corner of his eye, two portraits had been moved to the corner of the whiteboard.

Out the door, it was a quick jaunt down the stairs until he halted in front of his door. He was taking his sweet time, wasn't he? That was fine. Kokichi could wait.

He waited.

And waited and waited and waited.

He checked a nonexistent watch on his wrist. Tapped his shoe impatiently. Somewhere in the background, the morning announcement played.

He kept waiting. What was he waiting for again?

"Ouma-kun?"

"Hm?" Maybe Kokichi should pick the lock open and wake him himself.

"Ouma-kun, what are you waiting for?" Kokichi started, turning to gaze at Saihara over his shoulder. He smiled awkwardly, sympathy in his gaze—his shielded gaze—nodding towards Amami's door. "He's... He's not going to come out, you know."

Ah.

Saihara had ditched his emo hat.

"Oh, I know!" Kokichi threw his arms behind his head with an easy grin. "I was just testing you, silly!"

That's right.

"Right... Are you coming to breakfast?"

Blood spattered on the bookcase.

"Yeah, I'll be there in a minute."

Pooling on the floor.

"If you say so."

Warm hands turned cold.

"Yeah, yeah."

A chest that will never rise and fall again.

But that's a lie. He'd be back soon enough. Kokichi just had to keep telling himself that. It was only temporary.

Temporary.

"Just don't go breaking in, okay? I don't think he'd want that."

Bold of him to assume he knew what Taro-kun would want. As if he hadn't been the one to spend every night in Kokichi's room, pouring over notes and plans and god knows what.

He really was thinking about telling him this time. Honest.

"I won't! But that could be a lie!"

But Kokichi needed a solo run, just to scope some things out. A prospective month or so to weed out discrepancies in how the dominoes fell. He knew this.

It was only temporary, he knew this.

How many times would it have to be temporary, though? How many times would Kokichi have to see that blood staining pretty green hair? How many nights would he wake up on the floor just to avoid his cold bed? He needed to figure this out. This time he would figure this out.

But this was the first time he'd ever done this, right? Taro-kun was gone. He wouldn't be coming back.

That was a cruel lie, but it lessened the itch for the press.

Just a bit. Just enough to see things through.

Don't have to wait if there's nothing to wait for.

Kokichi put the though of Taro-kun's warm hands out of his mind. He'd only known him for four days. He'd never met him before in his life. It was only four days. That's what Kokichi always told himself.

"Hey..."

He stiffened. Hadn't Saihara gone on ahead? That's usually what happened, wasn't it? Had Kokichi done something to change that this time? He must have. It was difficult to keep track of everything. (It wasn't. He kept track of everything perfectly. Remembered everything just so.) There wasn't much to keep track of, though, since there wasn't a "usually" to happen.

Saihara was staring at him. He should say something.

"Yeah?"

"It..." Saihara's gaze was even. Concerned? Skeptical? Knowing?

"It's not your fault. Okay?"

Kokichi bristled.

Without another word, Saihara continued on out the door, leaving Kokichi alone in front of Amami's door. There was no basis at all. Nothing in his tone, or the words themselves, but it itched at the back of Kokichi's mind like the lingering tinges of the poison in his system.

The truth. Kokichi was the only one who knew what would happen. Who hadn't said a word as Taro-kun had gone off to meet with Momota that night. Who'd seen him off with a smile.

There was no clinging. No warm weight around him. No rise and fall of a chest pressed against his. No soft green hair tickling his cheek.

Not this time, and it was like Saihara with his words had ripped the bandaid off the gaping wound Kokichi was pretending desperately wasn't there.

It's your fault. And now you get to starve.