The killing game was over. It was finally over.
Out of the sixteen students, only three remained. Maki Harukawa, Himiko Yumeno and Shuichi Saihara.
All Shuichi wants is a second chance to save everyone who died. To do things differently, to do thi...
Shuichi was struggling to pull himself up off the ground as he assumed the near to fetal position, his legs crammed up against his chest with his arms wrapped around them. He looked a little like a hibernating animal.. apart from the key fact that he was shivering and shaking uncontrollably as if his muscles were inducing spasms one after another after another after another. He was as pale as a sheet, his once already pals skin replaced by one that was near to ghostlike.
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dead_inside_tm dude. So perfect thank you for taking time out of your day to do this for me. It's marvellous. You nailed the perspective on this, which is actually pretty difficult to do. I just feel bad for Shuichi though.. agh I'm conflicted. Anyway go comment and follow and just enjoy the art.
Kokichi was at first a little confused by the other's actions, wanting to know whether he was just too cold or something along those lines. But as he slid off the bed, he noticed the face of his beloved absorbed engulfed by fear and terror. "Shuichi.. ah uhhmm, calm down!~ it'll be okay!" He was never good at this no matter how much he had tried and practiced. He had gotten better over time but that was definitely down to Shuichi's efforts. He had made him better.
He himself was panicking because Shuichi was panicking and that began to vicious circle of panic as it went back and forth between the two, both attempting desperately to calm the other down all the while panicking themselves.
The panic circle went on for a few more moments before Kokichi completely gave in and just hugged Shuichi best he could, stroking his back in a calming way, "Jeez.. just calm it right now, that's an order! And you can't refuse an order from the Ultimate Supreme Leader!~"
The detective choked out a few sobs, but somehow managed to hold back the majority of his tears. They weren't tears of sadness or of joy for that matter.. if anything, they really didn't have any reason for being there. The more he thought about why he was crying, the more conclusions he made, which only make him cry further.
If he had died, there wouldn't be the availability of having a third chance at things, not like he would ever want one of those if he was given the opportunity. He could have died in that hallway, and bled out, his blood oozing out of the precise incision as if it was soy sauce; that reality wasn't one that he wanted to face up to, but for some reason he couldn't shake it from his mind.
It seemed so real in his mind, similar to an out of body experience. It rang familiar with if a player had got a 'bad ending' game and they were kicking and screaming that the main character got killed off from the rest of the cast prematurely.
This trance was shattered as he felt Kokichi's beautifully painted purple nails dig into his sides and what could have been a whisper reach out to him, "Shumai! Wakey wakey, you're crying.. comon tell me what's up, no excuses!"
