Assassins, Detectives, and the Mafia

Suns and Stars

Rantaro nervously traces circles in the railing as he stares into the sunset. His heartbeat pulses in his ears as his mind whirs, anticipating the meeting.

"So it is you."

Kokichi's voice is soft as he stares blankly out into the sky. He looks the same, except that there's no... ferocity behind his gaze. 

It's chilling, to see Kokichi look so much like an empty shell.

"Yep," Rantaro states after a pregnant pause. "Are you-"

"I'm fine," Kokichi teases, though it's low and too somber. "Just a small headache."

"That'll happen," Rantaro sighs, running a hand through lime-green hair. "It hurts like hell when..."

He catches the look of utter guilt that flashes across Kokichi's expression, and abandons the sentence. 

"I really am sorry, you know," Kokichi mutters. "I never meant..."

"I know," Rantaro sighs.

"I just wanted to scare you a little... never..."

"It's fine, Kokichi," Rantaro lies through his teeth. 

"It's just - sniff - all my fault..." 

Kokichi swipes at tears rolling down his face, only for more to take their place. "I didn't mean for... I just... I..."

"Hey."

Rantaro thinks about enfolding Kokichi in a hug, but in the end settles for patting him awkwardly on the head. Kokichi smiles all the same, though, giving him a small but real smile.

"Are you still worried about him?" Kokichi whispers. "Do you still..."

The 'regret' hangs in the air between them, left unsaid.

"No," Rantaro smiles shyly, before biting down on his lower lip and ducking away. "It's just..."

I wish that we weren't puppets.

I wish that it hadn't happened in the first place.

I wish you had never gone under that hydraulic press.

I wish that I had never died. 

"I wish they were here," he eventually says, and Kokichi nods solemnly in response. 

"That would be easier," Kokichi mutters. "It would be easier... so much easier..."

He doesn't say how history tends to repeat itself, which Rantaro is grateful for. 

"Rantaro?" Kokichi asks after a long silence.

"Hm?"

"If we're the losers... why does it feel like Shu- the others... are the real losers?"

"I don't know," Rantaro confesses, despite the twinging in his heart. "Maybe because we know the full story?"

"I have a different idea." Kokichi hoists himself up to sit on the railing, silhouetted by the dying rays of the sun. "I think we're just tired."

"Tired?" Rantaro hums.

And it makes sense, it really does. Rantaro's tired of looking over his shoulder, of checking each room twice before entering.

Of course, then he has to remind himself that he's one of the lucky ones (and isn't that rich, how stalking is on the short end of the stick now, though when he squints, he can still see that bob of hair in the shadows)

"Yeah," Kokichi sighs. "I'm so tired of being me." He wrings his hands in Rantaro's direction, as if flicking off invisible blood. "So much blood on my mush-that-used-to-be-hands."

"Have you always been this cynical?" Rantaro sighs.

"Maybe," Kokichi smirks, a spark of mischief coming to dulled violet eyes. "Maybe I don't feel any remorse at all and I'm just messing with you."

"Maybe," Rantaro smiles, opting to play along. "So tell me, 'Ultimate Supreme Leader', are you lying to me?"

"Maybe," Kokichi parrots. "I prefer to think of it as stretching the truth."

"Are you two coming?" someone calls from the hall.

"One second, Kaede!" Rantaro shouts. Dropping his voice to a whisper, he continues, "you know, it's okay to let yourself be happy."

"Is it, though?" Kokichi whispers. "Is it really okay for me to be... while they're..."

"What's done is done," Rantaro smiles, hand clasping Kokichi's thin wrist. 

"Uwa- what are you doing!" Kokichi exclaims.

"Save us some dinner!" Rantaro shouts, dragging Kokichi into the building. The Ultimate Supreme Leader lets out a few more muted complaints before surrendering, and racing ahead of Rantaro.

"Save me some too!"