[Fic] The end was nigh.

[usononikki]

The seconds were ticking by as Kokichi sat idly on his bed, gently swinging the Amami effigy back and forth as he stared blankly across his room. After all the time he'd spent here, this would be the last time he would see any of this junk. The piles of boxes, filled with more fake plans than real. The mountains of hoarded evidence—his fingers grazed softly across Amami's cheek as he brought the swing to a stop.

If a painful twinge struck his heart as those glassy, drooping eyes met his, no it didn't.

Kokichi stood from his bed, wandering over to the whiteboard to go over things one more time. Why? He wasn't sure. It wasn't as if he was planning for anyone to see it. It's not like there was any new information, anyway. Every Blackened and their victims were lined up in neat rows, and the remaining survivors... it didn't matter what he thought of them anymore. It didn't matter who was the mastermind, because it was going to be him now whether they liked it or not.

"But I wouldn't gain anything from writing a message like that, would I? That would just make you guys suspect that I'm the mastermind."

It was over. It was all over. He'd set up his dominoes, and now all he had to do was watch them fall.

"I also... don't want to survive with someone who'd do such a thing to Gonta."

"Wh-what's... wrong with him? Is he even actually human?"

It was too late to stop them anyhow.

If the finality set Kokichi's teeth on edge, no it didn't.

The others should be about halfway through the escape tunnel by now; he should probably get going soon. Kokichi pulled his notebook out from its spot tucked in the back of his waistband and pulled the envelope out from between the pages. He wouldn't be needing this anymore. Not if he had his way, anyhow. He carelessly tossed it into the pile amongst the useless papers and blueprints.

The notebook was tucked back in his waistband where it belonged as he patted his pockets for the camera he always kept with him. Check. The Exisal remote? Check. It was now or never.

Kokichi locked the door behind him, tucking his key deep into his pocket. The arbitrary brightness of the fake sun cast no warmth on his skin as he broke out into the courtyard, bound for the manhole behind the school. The simple push of a button was met with the whirring march of the Exisals behind him. It was loud, and despite the knowledge that the campus was currently deserted...

If the racket set Kokichi's teeth on edge, not it didn't.

If his heart was hammering in his chest as he scrambled his way down the ladder in isolation, no it wasn't.

They would believe his lie. Of that much, he was certain.

He put all the pieces into place. After his performance after the last trial, he was certain that he would be able to sell it now. As he strolled casually through the tunnel, skirting around the shorting remains of the various traps left in the wake of Saihara's group, Kokichi whistled an idle tune. The mask slipped on easily, it always did.

If that was a lie, no it wasn't.

What was a lie anymore? What wasn't? It didn't matter. He would be living a lie from here on out.

"You're alone, Kokichi, and you always will be."

For the hope of those left, for the memory of those lost, Kokichi was prepared to show Saihara just how right he was.