Danganronpa Oneshots

🌪️ I Deserve Death 🌪️

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⚠️ - This chapter is surrounding self-harm, self-deprecation, suicidal ideation and other related themes, and is basically just a vent. It hasn't been edited. ⚠️

🌪️~🌪️~🌪️

Slamming the bathroom door, Kokichi locked it and slid down the wall, burying his tear-stained face in his hands as he sobbed. I can't have anything! Why, why is this fucking happening to me?! He sobbed into his hands, aware his parents could hear him at any moment, but the male no longer cared. His stomach growled in pain, reminding the boy of his eating habits and the argument that created his current situation.

Kokichi hadn't eaten anything more than an apple a day, having lost almost two kilograms in about a week. It's not enough though, it's never enough. Stumbling to his feet, the male turned to see himself in the mirror, his red and puffy eyes, the fat around his thin body. Through the door, he could hear his parents screaming at each other in the kitchen about him, how useless and waste of a child he is. They're right though.

More tears than he thought possible erupted from his eyes as he fell to the floor again, desperate to rid himself of his own existence. Just fucking kill me, please, I have no worth in life anymore so fucking kill me! He screamed in his own mind, trying to drown out the insults thrown around by Kokichi and his family. Feeling like he had no other choice, Kokichi crawled towards the cabinet in the bathroom, reaching past the basket of toiletries to grab a small bag. Opening the zip with shaking fingers, he pulled out the craft knife and shoved the bag back into hiding where he knew his parents wouldn't find it.

Slamming his head and back against the wall, the male pulled up his pants leg, exposing his pale thigh littered with pink, red and white lines. Through teary eyes, Kokichi uncapped the knife and watched as the dried blood covered blade pressed into his skin. One slice, then two, then four, then six, that's one cut. As he cried, he watched drops of deep red blood form on his skin, dripping down the side of his leg to the floor. One cut evolved into two, two evolved into four.

Blood pooled over and underneath his thigh, old scars reopening at the will of a blade. It didn't feel smooth, Kokichi likened that of slicing open his thigh to slicing a tightly packed container of kinetic sand. He heard and felt the catching of the sharp blade on parts of his skin as he continued to slice it open, all the old scars covered with new ones. 

You deserve all of this you piece of shit. This is for how useless you are at everything. Look at how fucking fat you are, and you can't even lose the weight! Kokichi continued to berate himself, grabbing at his stomach when he felt the weight was, gripping the tiny roll that was simply caused by sitting down. You're a fat, ugly, disgusting, worthless, stupid, useless, lonely little fucking bitch. The knife clattered to the ground, the blood underneath it splattering.

Glancing to the side, Kokichi noticed notifications flooding his phone. That's right, I was texting Saihara and Amami before this happened. They've told me to message them if I ever feel like doing this again, but why would I? Both of them will just judge me and end up leaving me, or they might tell everyone and people will make fun of me. No, I can't bother them, after all, I just need to get over myself. Shooting the two a quick smiley face to act like everything was alright, Kokichi stared at the blood slowly turning to jelly on his body.

"Kokichi Ouma get your sorry ass out here right fucking now!" His father screamed from outside the bathroom. Without time to clean up the wounds, Kokichi pulled his pant leg down and watched the black fabric darken around the area of the cuts. It wasn't too noticeable unless you were looking, but Kokichi knew they were there due to the horrendous stinging. Without cleaning the craft knife, he replaced the cap and shoved it back in the small bag where the rest of his tool lay.

Grabbing a spare towel, Kokichi quickly wiped up the blood on the floor, folding it over to hide the red liquid and throwing it in the laundry hamper. It'll be safe there, I'm the one who does the laundry after all. Kokichi wiped his eyes, pocketing his phone before leaving the bathroom to see what his father wanted.