Uso dayo!

It was just as he expected.

Kokichi crouched on the floor of the empty room, examining the floorboard in front of him. He reached out, carefully pushing it down and watching as it lowered into the floor, the other end raising up into the air like a see-saw. As he thought, the loose floorboard under Chabashira hadn't been a coincidence. It was safe to say the third room also had a loose floorboard just like this one, meaning that it was a premeditated setup. That just left the question of how exactly it was relevant to this case.

The floorboard lowered back into place as he retracted his hand, unassuming in its placement. Kokichi stood, eyeing the floorboard warily. You'd never be able to tell if you didn't already know it was there. It'd be so easy to just step right through it and gravity would do the rest—what a nasty way to fall! It was a good thing that Kokichi had already had a sneaking suspicion of its presence.

He stole an apprehensive glance to the door.

No one else was in this room. No one else—besides the culprit, of course—knew that the floorboard was here. More importantly, no one else knew that Kokichi knew the floorboard was here.

He looked down at the floorboard again, a familiar ache in his chest.

He was tired. Tired of trying, tired of dancing around, walking this tightrope to keep everyone safely distant and yet close enough to handle. Tired of how everything he tried backfired, because no one gives the benefit to a lair. And yes, maybe he was a liar, but what was so inherently terrible about that? Why should he have to explain himself? Why was it, whenever people realized you were a liar, it was always the good things, the vulnerable things, that were expected to be lies?

Simple, because it was easier to not care that way.

It was easier to assume he was fine and dandy. It gave them peace of mind to think he would never dare to be vulnerable or honest about his feelings. They couldn't prove it one way or the other, right? So they could go on thinking it was a lie and that they didn't really have to worry about him.

No, Kokichi enjoyed the killing game. He said so himself, and that was the truth. Wanting it to end? Being afraid that he might be the next to die? Missing the people they'd lost? Clearly those were the lies. Even the Ultimate Detective thought so. Who was Kokichi to argue? They'd believe whatever they wanted either way.

But he was still tired, and maybe—just maybe—he wanted something they couldn't just write off. Something that they'd see with their own eyes that was undeniably bad. An excuse for someone to show him just a little bit of concern, just once.

Kokichi tested the board with his shoe again, watching it dip into the floor as the other end rose into the air. No one would know. No one could know.

It would be such an easy, unfortunate accident.

Would it swing up and hit him in the face? There was nothing to stop it, so probably. Maybe it'd break his nose. Maybe it'd bleed. His foot would go down in the hole, would it hit the dirt below? Would he twist his ankle? Would he break his leg? Kokichi shuddered.

Well, it'd be hard to deny the severity of something like that.

What was he thinking? They had cases to investigate. Two cases. There was no way Monokuma would excuse someone with an injury, and even if he did, Kokichi would hardly rest easy putting his faith in everyone to figure it all out without him. It was ludicrous to even entertain the idea, and yet...

He thought about how everyone cried over the victims. The concern and sorrow and compassion at every body discovery. Kokichi didn't want to die, necessarily, but...

It would be nice, just once, for even a fraction of that compassion to be bestowed upon him.

So maybe, as he pondered the case, he started to pace back and forth across the room a little bit. And maybe, after a while, he was so lost in thought that he stopped paying attention to the floor. No one was there to see. No one would know. How was Kokichi to know the floorboard was there?

It was a completely unavoidable accident.

When his foot disappeared into the floor, his entire body pitched forward on reflex to try to catch himself. The board flew up, meeting the crown of his forehead with a loud CRACK! as a sharp pain exploded across his skull. He slumped to the ground, and then there was silence. For just a moment, Kokichi laid there on the floor, assessing the results.

His head was pounding, the sharp, concentrated pain of the initial blow now softened to a more generalized throb. His nose was sore from bumping it as he collapsed face-first, but didn't seem to be broken, and his leg fortunately—or maybe unfortunately—was completely fine.

Damn, that was it...? Kokichi's stomach twisted at the thought. He didn't want to think about what it said about him for that to be his overall reaction to being struck in the head with a floorboard.

Or the fact he deliberately struck himself in the first place.

Something warm and wet dribbled down his face from somewhere near the top of his head. Blearily, he reached up to dab at it, pulling his fingers away to find them stained with blood. Oh. Well, even if it wasn't too bad, that much blood would make it look worse than it was, right? And if he let it keep bleeding, then maybe he could get some extra dizziness out of the deal. That'd really sell it.

What was he thinking?

Kokichi groaned, pushing himself up to his knees and then stumbling to his feet. His vision seemed fine, and his thoughts were starting to precipitate back to something more comprehensible. Normally, that'd be good, right? It was just a bump and nothing would come of it. How lucky.

He continued to let the blood run freely down his face as he stepped out into the hall.

No one was there. He wondered if maybe he should go running and crying to the first person he could find. Then again, they might wave him off if he was walking around and acting fine and energetic as usual, right? Then all of this would have been for nothing. No, maybe he should wait for someone to come to him.

He sank to his knees again in the middle of the hallway, pondering how he should present himself. Just sitting on the floor like this? He would have had to at least make it out of the room okay to be here, so he would have no reason to be on the floor like this. Or maybe...

People can faint after getting a concussion, right? He could do that. Kokichi sprawled out face down on the floor again, letting the blood start to pool from the cut on his head. With this much blood, it might even scare whoever found him into thinking he was dead. He didn't want to scare anyone that badly, especially considering they already had two bodies on their hands, so he'll have to "wake up" before that happens.

God, his head hurt...

Suddenly a door opened into the hall, and Kokichi's breath froze in his lungs. Who was it? He couldn't tell from the footsteps alone. A beat of silence passed where he wondered if they'd even seen him, and for a moment he panicked as he realized he didn't even know how to go about "waking up." If he waited any longer, though, someone might freak out. With no choice but to rip the bandage off, he pushed himself up, defaulting to his tried and true mask.

"It's a lie!" he cried. The sudden shift from flat on the floor to upright made his head spin, and he dizzily processed that it was none other than Saihara and Harukawa before him. He vaguely wondered if maybe he had done some damage as he awkwardly pulled himself to his feet again. "Neeheehee... Did I surprise you? Were you gonna scream and cry in terror?"

"Wh-what are you doing?"

To say Kokichi was taken aback by the reaction would be an understatement. Sure, he'd expected bewilderment, but he'd hoped for something more along the lines of concern. Are you okay? What happened? He was covered in blood, after all.

Saihara's words of choice, however, held less concern and more... frustration? A tired sort of exasperation for Kokichi's antics. Maybe he thought it was just paint?

They were staring at him, waiting for an answer.

"Oh, sorry..." Maybe he should address it? "I'm just a little light-headed from the blood loss. Yeah, this is real blood."

"... Okay, so what are you doing?" The tired repetition of the question sent a pang through Kokichi's chest.

Wow. Tough crowd.

"I got curious about something, so I decided to search the empty room next door. Th-Then, suddenly..." What if he played it up a little? He did have a headache. Maybe it was worse than he thought? It wouldn't be too much harm to lean into that, right? "I-I...stepped through the floorboard."

"You stepped through a floorboard?" Saihara continued to eye him skeptically.

"Geez, that got me good..." A pit began to form in Kokichi's stomach as the two stared him down. He couldn't tell if the nausea building there was from the migraine or the scrutiny. "'Cause of this, I-I tripped and fell pretty hard..."

Please... Please just care. Even just a little bit, please.

"If you're going to lose consciousness, do it after you tell us everything."

"O-Oh..." They really didn't care at all, did they? "Sorry, my bad... I guess... there was no crosspiece supporting this floorboard, so I kinda... stepped through..."

Please all I want is for someone to care if I live or die.

"Ah-haha, what bad luck..."

And then the school bell rang, signaling the end of their investigation time. The moment was over.

He should have expected this result.