Uso dayo!

Kokichi didn't trust Momota as far as he could throw him. That hadn't changed in forty-seven loops. (Or maybe it had. Sometimes. Maybe?) Kokichi didn't have the time to examine his feelings on the matter. Whatever happened between them ended up getting wiped clean every time he ended up back in the locker. It never happened. This was the first time all over again. Kokichi made a point to forget his attachments each and every time. (Didn't he?) It made things easier. (He didn't, not really.)

No, it was Taro-kun who had gone cozying up to Momota this time, and behind Kokichi's back no less.

That's how he'd found himself dragged along for the ride when Momota bound up to them like an excited puppy one day, exclaiming to Taro-kun that "it" was ready. It? What it? Kokichi looked between the two of them blankly. Taro-kun didn't usually go off scheming with other people. He wasn't about to turn down the invitation to tag along, though.

And so now here he was, crammed into Momota's dorm closet, knees pulled up to his chest and making his already small frame even smaller so his two much taller companions would fit. Tin foil crinkled beneath him, running all up the walls and over the ceiling. Every surface of the closet was covered in it, like a room version of a conspirator's foil hat. Momota shut the door behind them, briefly plunging the three of them into darkness before clicking on a flashlight and joining them on the floor.

"So what's all this, then?" Kokichi finally asked.

"What do you mean?" Momota seemed genuinely surprised at Kokichi's question. "It's a Faraday cage!"

"I... took it upon myself to bring up the cameras you told me about to Momota," Taro-kun explained. "He said this could get us some privacy."

Kokichi's gaze flicked between the two of them. Something unpleasant twisted in his stomach. He had told Taro-kun about the cameras in confidence. Or had he? He didn't remember.

But that's a lie.

"Okay," Kokichi said carefully. Better to stay civil for now. "So then what's the plan from here?"

"Well, no one can listen in on us in here. It's isolated in my room, and the foil keeps signals from getting through."

"So we can talk freely."

"Isn't that foil stuff just whacko TV shit?" Kokichi asked skeptically. Nothing on TV could be taken at face value, he knew that well.

"No, actually!" Momota insisted. "See, the foil makes it more difficult for electromagnetic signals to—"

The conversation dragged on after that. Or maybe it jumped ahead jarringly quickly. Back and forth of cameras and masterminds and things Kokichi already knew, but didn't know. Not really. How could he? He didn't divulge the time loops to Momota this time (or any time), because he'd only know this boy for three days (eighteen days) (one thousand two hundred seventy-three days), after all. Time loops? There were no time loops. That was on a need-to-know basis, and it was the first Kokichi was hearing of it.

"I don't get why we can't just tell everybody about all this." Momota rubbed the back of his head with a disgruntled furrow in his brow. "Communication is gonna be key here, right? We want everyone on the same page."

"Kokki told you already," Taro-kun snapped. "If everyone knows, then the Mastermind will know, and that will just ruin things."

"But you guys trusted me, right?" Wrong. Taro-kun trusted you, for some reason.

Why'd Taro-kun have to drag Momota into this, anyway? He was such a blabbermouth and believed in everyone unconditionally and it frankly made Kokichi nauseous. How could Taro-kun be so sure that Momota wouldn't tell anyone? Akamatsu? Saihara?

A shiver skittered up Kokichi's spine.

He was gonna go insane in this dark, cramped space. He swore he could hear the press in the background. (Press? What press?) He dug the flick blade he started nabbing from the warehouse out of his pocket, mindlessly flipping it open and shut just for something to do.

Fwip, click. Fwip, click. God, he was always so on-edge. Why was that?

"It'd be kind of funny if we had the same thing," Momota laughed, and Kokichi hazily realized he had no idea what he was talking about. He must have dropped part of the conversation along the way. Did he?

Fwip, click. Fwip, click.

No, he remembered exactly what they were talking about, or at least he could guess. He barked a bitter laugh at Momota's naiveté. Taro-kun gave a wary chuckle as he glanced apprehensively at Kokichi.

"No, Momota-kun," he muttered, "I can guarantee we don't."

So he guessed right. Of course he did, because he knew exactly what was going on.

"Oh, yeah? Well let's see!" Bless his heart. Fwip, click.

They didn't have the same thing, suffice to say. They bantered so well, though. Kokichi didn't understand it. Or maybe he did. Taro-kun was just infectious like that, when he finally let loose and felt comfortable around someone. Was he really that comfortable around Momota?

Would Momota steal Taro-kun away from him?

Fwip, click. Fwip, click.

There was a sudden lull in the conversation as Taro-kun and Momota turned to regard him. Did he miss something again?

"Kokki, you okay?" Stupid question. Fwip, click.

"Peachy." Fwip, click. A lie of a lie if only in how vitriolic the lie's lie was.

"Woah, what's your deal all of a sudden, man?"

Fwip, click. Fwip,click. Why was it so hard to think? Something was weird. Kokichi's head was starting to feel like static. He wasn't concussed yet this run (he'd never had a concussion before in his life), so what was it? Kokichi could barely follow the conversation anymore. No, he had an acute awareness of every word either of them said. It was frustrating.

Fwip, click. Fwip, click.

"Momota," Taro-kun prompted suddenly, "do you take medication for your ADHD?"

Kokichi and Momota both looked at him quizzically.

"Yeah? Why?"

"Well, you haven't been since you've been here, right?" Wait.

"Uh, no, I guess I haven't." No.

"Have you felt any different?" No no no no no.

Horror dawned on Momota's face as he realized no, as a matter of fact, he hadn't felt any different.

Drugs. Stimulants. That was it. They were being drugged. Momota already took stimulants to function, so he hadn't noticed. Taro-kun already took stimulants to entertain himself, so the meager dose wasn't enough to affect him much. Kokichi, on the other hand...

How? The food? The air?

Only one person came to Kokichi's mind with a potential expertise in chemical substances like that. Someone with a cabinet full of them hidden away in his yet unrevealed Ultimate Lab. The lab Kokichi knew nothing about, of course.

Kokichi was suddenly very aware of how goopy his thoughts had become since they'd holed up in this dumb closet. The longer they'd been there, the hard it had become to follow along with the conversation. Even now, he could see Taro-kun and Momota bickering, but the words weren't penetrating his consciousness. He was so, so sleepy, which was a marked difference from his usual high-strung thoughts. That made no sense.

Taro-kun had said stimulants, hadn't he?

Suddenly he was being shaken awake again. He looked up blearily at Taro-kun's worried face—that expression never suited him. Momota was just behind him, ripping the closet door open. Why? They weren't done talking yet, were they?

When Kokichi came to again hours later, Taro-kun and Momota would explain how the Mastermind must have seen them hide away in the closet and figured out their Faraday cage strategy. They must have smoked them out, pumping in some kind of cocktail of drugs through the vents. The other two hadn't noticed the change at first, being much larger and needing a heavier dose to feel any effects, but Kokichi? For Kokichi, so small and lithe, it had been almost instant lights-out.

A tiny canary in the coal mine.

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.