Little Do You Know

A Rollercoaster of Hell

Scowling, Kokichi shut the front door and stomped into the kitchen where he knew his mum would be. She stood at the counter, diced ingredients spread along the marble top. "Oh, hi sweetie, how was your day?" The woman never looked up at her son, yet still sensed his presence. Either that, or she heard his heavy footsteps.

"I know what you did," Kokichi spat. His clenched fists hung stiffly at his sides, eyes never moving from the woman's face.

She sighed, placing down the knife. "Sweetie..." Once she turned to face him, Kokichi saw the amused smile ghosting her lips. "I'm sorry, I'll give you back Fifi soon. She needed to be washed."

Kokichi froze, glare falling into a blank expression. That wasn't expected, did he even hear the woman correctly? "Huh? N-No, I'm... You washed Fifi?"

"Mhm, I did." The woman nodded, unfazed by Kokichi's question. She'd become used to him repeating things, it was his way of confirming when he thought he heard incorrectly.

"Thank you," he mumbled, staring at the floor. Adopting another scowl on his face, Kokichi looked up again to glare at the woman. "I'm still mad!"

"What about? Let's talk about it," she whispered, reaching out to hold his hands. Kokichi snatched his hands back, placing them on his hips.

"I know what you did with the form!"

Closing her eyes briefly, the woman nodded and turned off the stove before taking Kokichi's hand in her soft, dainty one. She led him to the nearby table, both of them sitting beside each other. "Kokichi, this is for the best-"

"No! It's fucking not!" Kokichi screamed, standing up quick enough to send his chair flying to the ground. He stomped his foot, throwing his fists down as he tried not to cry. "I'm not leaving you!"

"Shh, shh, don't yell!" She whispered, panic strewn across her face. "You'll wake up your father."

Huffing, Kokichi grabbed the chair and picked it up, jumping into it and wincing from the impact. He crossed his arms, a scowl never leaving his face. Knowing he might've endangered the woman made guilt surge through Kokichi's veins, but the damage had been done. "I don't wanna go."

"Please?" The woman begged. "For me?"

"I'm not leaving you!" Kokichi's voice began to rise, but he forced himself to whisper in case he spoke too loud. He hated not being able to hear how loud he spoke, which often landed him in trouble.

"Visitors are allowed, so I'll visit every Saturday." Kokichi stared at her violet eyes, begging him to compromise.

Sighing, he stared at his knees. "Fine." Maybe living in the dorms wouldn't be so bad after all? His mum would be fine, she'd visit every weekend. As long as he kept going to work and did what his father said, she'd be safe.

Kokichi's heart raced as he heard footsteps. He glanced at the staircase, seeing his father standing there with his signature frown. The man glared directly at Kokichi, making his hair stand on end. "What could ever make you think that you have the right to shout in my home?"

"I'm sorry," Kokichi mumbled, staring at his lap. Even though he looked away, he could feel the threatening stare burning a hole through his body.

"Don't hurt him." Kokichi's eyes widened at the sound of his mother's voice, head snapping to her. Out of the corner of his eye, his father grasped an empty vase and swung it into the air.

 .·:*¨💜༺ ༻💙¨*:·.

He forced a moan from his throat, feeling the disgusting pressure inside of him. Kokichi hated it, he felt more disgusting than ever. His throat wanted to scream, but he knew he couldn't. "Fuck, you're good," the client whispered between their grunts.

Kokichi grimaced, glad his back was to the other. He yelped in surprise as the client grabbed a collar they'd forced him to wear, shoving him to the ground on his knees. Forcing a pleasured grin to his lips, Kokichi watched the other masturbate until they ejaculated, the substance splattering onto the purplette's face.

His stomach flipped, urging him to vomit in disgust, but Kokichi kept it together and smiled. The client readjusted their clothes, pulling out a wad of cash held together with a rubber band. Kokichi took it, ignoring the disgusting substance still on his face as he counted the cash. "It's all here, thank you!" Grinning, he waved to the client as they left. "Come play with us again!"

As the client closed the door behind them, Kokichi groaned. He hurried to grab a tissue and wiped his face. Hearing a chain rattling, his heart dropped. The client forgot to remove the collar. Feeling around, he released a frustrated huff as he found a lock, rather than a regular belt-like mechanism.

Pulling two small pins that he hid in his hair, Kokichi bent them enough to achieve his goal. He slipped them into the lock, closing his eyes as he fiddled with it. Kokichi learned to lockpick through his entertainment job, as clients often left without removing handcuffs or some collars.

It wasn't surprising. People only bought him for their pleasure, not Kokichi's. The man rarely ejaculated during an appointment, his clients never pleasured him enough. Kokichi had become numb to it now. At least he could still masturbate when he wanted to without a panic attack. Well, sometimes. Occasionally, he'd just end up crying and curling himself into a ball until he fell asleep.

Feeling something tickle his face, Kokichi's eyes widened as something dripped past his parted lips. He gagged, coughing as he threw the unlocked collar onto the bed and ran into the bathroom. Turning the faucet hard enough to risk breaking it, Kokichi hurried to rinse out his mouth.

"Ew ew ew ew!" Kokichi repeated his muttering as he grabbed a small bottle of mouthwash. He rinsed his mouth with the alcoholic liquid, accidentally swallowing some in his rush. Spitting out as much saliva as possible, Kokichi took a deep breath and began to calm himself.

Grabbing his bag from the corner, he pulled off his cropped, black shirt and mini-skirt, changing into a plain grey shirt and black jeans. Slipping the money from his pocket into his bag, Kokichi sighed. He'd hand it to his dad the next time he saw him, or give it to his mum on Saturday.

He sprayed a soft, grape-scented perfume, one he loved. It was better than citrus, that's for sure. Hurrying to grab all of his items and swing the bag over his shoulder, Kokichi raced out of the building. Kokichi ran through the streets as fast as his legs would carry him. The man stumbled here and there, but he had to ignore the pain and exhaustion in his hips.

Today was the day everyone had moved into the Hope's Peak dorms. Kokichi couldn't be late, but the appointment went a little longer than he'd liked. There wasn't anything he could do about it though, some clients let the power get to their heads.

All of the academy's students had their luggage sent to their rooms. As long as they arrived before curfew began, they'd be permitted entry. Kokichi's mum had taken his bags, dropping them off in his room for him.

Glancing at his phone, Kokichi groaned as he continued running, lungs burning. 9:46 pm, he wasn't going to make it in time. In the dorms, students weren't allowed outside between 10 pm and 5 am. Headmaster Monokuma explained it as a precaution since the dorms were introduced for the student's safety after Shirogane's murder.

Kokichi groaned, tears dotting the corners of his eyes as he forced himself to continue. He couldn't get detention, not on moving day. His legs burned and his body screamed for rest, but he kept running.

Ten minutes of running, ten minutes of torture as he continued to weave through the streets towards campus. He had four minutes to reach the dorms before they locked.

The campus was in sight, a sudden burst of adrenaline coursing through Kokichi's veins as his pace increased by a fraction. Doors burst open as he crashed to the ground, exhausted limbs shivering. He checked his phone. 9:59 pm, he'd made it just in time.

Panting heavily, Kokichi's chest stung as he closed his eyes. He couldn't move, his body needed immediate rest. Running was a horrible idea when you rarely ate and just had your ass pounded by a lonely, middle-aged man who was probably ten times divorced.

Letting himself catch his breath, Kokichi wiped away the beads of sweat collecting on his forehead, embracing the cool, tiled floor.