The Truth Behind His Lies (an Oumasai Fanfiction) - Let's Try This Again.

Chapter Nine: Finding Home (continued)

A/N: Yes, I am, in fact, continuing directly where the story last left off. This is your last warning to read the first few chapters before reading this if you're new.
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I managed a small nod and obliged, sitting on the love child of a chair and a couch. It was pretty damn comfy.

My mom and dad sat opposite of me before exchanging glances with one another. My mom opened her mouth to speak.

"So, Kokichi.."

I looked at her, wondering why her voice seemed to have a tinge of upset in it. "Yeeesssss?"

"If you're here now, does that mean that..you didn't make it? Or is it already over? Were you one of the survivors?"

"In the killing game? Uhm..." My voice faltered for a moment. I couldn't manage a direct response. "Well, I mean...I made it pretty far, that's for sure! Things just got..complicated."

"So you did die.." My father murmured.

"Well, now that I know that none of it was real, I don't mind thaaatt muucch....I'd rather be here than stuck in there! Being in a crazy killing game does get tiring after a while, a man has other things to tend to, you know!!"

I tried to be humorous, but, part of it felt insincere. Being in the killing game sucked dick, but dying as someone that nearly everybody hated? That sucked dick AND balls, something very distinct and very worse.

Plus, not being in the killing game means I'm not with Shuichi...at least, I won't be for a while. It's not like he would have wanted me there anyway.

Dad managed a small chuckle. "Heh, yeah, I suppose so, but, now that you say that, it's got me wondering..."

"Wondering what? Spit it out, pops!" I nagged, playfully.

"Do you..regret participating in Danganronpa..?"

"Do I what now--?"

"We were informed in advance that your memories would be...suppressed, so to speak," My mother started to say. "So you probably don't even remember why you asked. Not yet, anyway, but..think of it this way..if you could talk to the you before all this, would you tell him that participating was a bad idea?"

That question genuinely stumped me for a moment. "Uhm..I'm not sure."

I couldn't understand why I didn't just say yes. It was horrible. My entire personality was a facade..I had to lie and manipulate my way though the entire thing..I didn't feel safe. Who would have?

"Why did I even WANNA do that?" I ended up blurting aloud.

"It wasn't that you wanted to, per se, but..you said you had to." My mom answered softly.

"Had to..? Huh."

My response didn't properly convey how confused I was. Who the fuck has to participate in a killing game??

"That's what you said, yeah," My father confirmed. "One of your friends, they were a hardcore fan of the Danganronpa series, said they watched all fifty-one seasons and made very poor financial decisions regarding their merchandice. You, not so much. You always used to say that the series scared you by how morbid it was..but you'd watch it with them anyway, so you could understand their excited rambles and theories. One day, you came running to us, saying that you HAD to apply for Danganronpa's fifty-second season. When we asked why, you said that your friend was about to do just that, and that scared you. You were afraid that the game would change them, that it would change your friendship. We weren't very sure about it at first, but, you were so desperate, so eventually we caved in. Both of you ended up getting in."

I stared at him for a moment in shock. I looked at my mom, but all she did was nod with agreement.

I didn't even know what part to focus on.

I decided to bring up my main question. "Can you tell me who this "friend" is?"

My mom sighed. "We would, we really would, but, it's stated in the contracts that participant's memories are suppressed for their own good, and the more important the memory, the more important it is that they remember at the right time. If you don't already remember them, we can't tell you..you have to wait for something to trigger the memory."

I blinked a few times. "Oh. Shit."

.....Who in the fuckaroni and cheese were these people talking about?? I'm seriously gonna have to wait for my brain to decide to remember the person who indirectly got me crushed by a fucking hydrolic press (hell, maybe even DIRECTLY depending on who!)??? No fair!

"Well, if I remembered you this early, then I suppose you two are pretty important, yeah?" I managed to say in an attempt to distract myself from this mystery person.

My parents smiled, and nodded.

"Thanks for the ego boost, kiddo," My father said, jokingly.

"You are very welcome."

The moment was inturrupted by the sound of my stomach growling.

My mother noticed. "You know, if you wanted to, you could stay for dinner."

I both do and do not know what willed me to say what I said in response. This was my mom and dad, the parents I didn't even remember having until recently. Of course I'd stay for dinner. But I suppose every Kokichi has his standards, so, in response, I asked the following...

"Do you have Panta?"

"...I thought you didn't like that soda." My father responded, visibly confused.

"What? Didn't li--- what?? So you don't have any??"

My parents shook their heads.

My heart shattered so loudly, for a second I thought someone was breaking into the house.

"Well, how about this, we'll make your favorite food instead?"

"Okay...but please have grape Panta next time. Please." I whined.

"We promise we will."

About an hour later, we found ourselves sitting at the dinner table, waiting for my mother to finish up cooking. It smelled absolutely amazing.

A plate of my supposed favorite food eventually ended up in front of me. Naturally, I went to take a look at it and--

Wait.

No. NO.

ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOU-

My father raised an eyebrow at my distraught expression, turning to my mom in confusion.

"...I thought he liked shumai...."