Little Do You Know

Your Beautiful Side

The door creaked open before gently latching shut again. Every fibre of Kokichi's body screamed at him to hide Fifi, but he couldn't move. All he could do was clutch Fifi close to his chest with his knees almost touching his chin.

Saihara carefully sat on the purplette's bed and smiled, but Kokichi still didn't move. He couldn't stop thinking about what his dad told him. "You've been in here for an hour," Saihara whispered. Kokichi didn't speak, he didn't believe that it'd been a whole hour of him curled up while fighting back unformed tears.

"Okay," Kokichi whispered in return. His throat hurt and his voice sounded like those nights after he had to perform a blowjob or two on stupid fucking clients.

A hand rested on his shoulder, gently rubbing circles around the fabric and tickling Kokichi's skin. "What's their name?"

He frowned at the detective. "Who?"

"Who you're hugging. Do they have a name?" Saihara clarified with that same stupid smile that enshrouded Kokichi in a false sense of safety.

Returning his gaze to the spot that he burned into his memory, Kokichi sighed. "Fifi..." He whispered, almost scared to admit that he had a fucking named plush toy as a grown man. "Mum named her..."

"Fifi seems like a great friend." Kokichi shifted his head to glance up at his roommate and narrowed his eyes. Why didn't Saihara laugh at him? The man should've snatched his comfort and paraded it, encouraging their roommates to tease Kokichi mercilessly. It wasn't like he didn't deserve it considering he tormented them for years. At least, that's what his dreams told him would happen. "Why would I just you based on something like that, Ouma? There's nothing wrong with having a little friend to comfort you," Saihara chuckled.

The chuckle sounded angelic to Kokichi's ears, he wanted to hear more of it. He wanted to make Saihara happy, no matter how impossible that dream was. "How did you know what I was thinking?" Kokichi asked, his mind buzzing with stupid scenarios. Oh no, had he been thinking aloud? If he said something about Saihara-

"I could tell by the way you're looking at me," Saihara sighed. He brushed a few stray hairs from Kokichi's face, eyes dripping with a pitiful look that reminded the purplette of his mother. "Your face is covered in dirt. Let's clean you up, okay?"

Kokichi wanted to scream at the thought. Saihara Shuichi - the man he held a solar-system-sized crush on - wanted to take care of him as a boyfriend would! Maybe Kokichi could indulge himself in this small fantasy, although he'd have to fight back a giddy smile. Fuck it, why shouldn't he have this single, positive moment to look back on when times grew tough? After all, he needed a lot more of those.

He sat up, placing Fifi beside his pillow. Saihara nodded in understanding as he stood, disappearing into the bathroom and returning with a small med kit. The sight reminded Kokichi of his suicide attempt. That night, Saihara searched their entire room for sharp objects and removed every single object that someone could use to injure themselves. Including Kokichi's craft knives, which Saihara located instantaneously. Despite his efforts, Kokichi couldn't find anything, not even their pencil sharpeners and scissors.

Saihara stood before him, picking up a wipe and beckoning Kokichi closer. He let the detective slowly and carefully clean dried blood and soil from his scratched skin. Until Saihara reached his left eye. Kokichi flinched, the skin more tender than he'd realised. The detective paused before slowly leaning back with narrow, concerned eyes. "Did you land on your eye?"

"Yeah," Kokichi spat out without thinking. Saihara only frowned, dull golden eyes narrowing further.

"You're lying."

"No, I'm not!" Kokichi grinned, holding a finger to his split lip. "Unless... that was the lie?~"

"I can tell."