The New Motive

We're A Mess

"I- I gotta go!" Shuichi quickly said, pushing Kokichi off him carefully, avoiding hurting him or his injury, and rushing out of the room and down the hallway.

Kokichi couldn't really blame him. He had been pretty weird about the situation, but it still hurt.

Why did he care, though? It was just to see if Miu was lying. To mess with Shuichi. To make things interesting. It didn't mean anything. Right?

What's happening? And with that thought he curled up into a ball, lying on the bed, holding one of the pillows, and began crying softly into it.

. . .

Shuichi , meanwhile, was running down the halls to the bathrooms. Tears blurred his vision and made it difficult to know exactly where he was going, but he managed. He just hoped no one else had seen him.

He rushed into the bathroom and leaned up against the wall opposite the sinks whos mirrors reflected the students state. He closed his eyes tightly in an attempt to stop the tears still rolling down his pale cheeks, but it was no use. He made a fist with one hand and hit the wall aggressively before sliding down it to sit with his knees pulled to his chest and covered his face.

He wasn't alone for long, though. After a short while he heard another male enter the restroom. He didn't look up, but, being the Ultimate Detective, he could immediately tell who it was.

"Hey, Saihara. Are you alright? What happened?"

"I don- It's- I just-," he stuttered.

"Hey, hey. It's gonna be alright," Rantaro said putting his hand on the bluette's shoulder. "Could you look at me, please?"

He did and the lighter haired male saw his tear-stained face and held his arms out for the other, who gladly accepted and hugged him.

"What happened?" he asked quietly.

"A- Amami, I- I messed up," he cried between staggered breaths. "It's O- Ouma."

"What about him?"

"I- I just . . . I think I like him. As more th- than a friend. An- and Irima must've s- said something about it b- because he found out, b- but I just don't know what t- to do or how to fe- feel or what to say and it- it all feels like it's- it just feels like so much a- at once."

"Ah, I see." he replied simply. It was a short answer, but that's all he had to give. Shuichi knew he understood.

Tears were still streaming down the bluette's face and were now forming small puddles that faded into the fabric of Rantaro's shirt.

"I- I'm sorry, Amami."

"No, don't be. It's alright. I'm here to help," he reassured the other. "So, what do you need?"

"I . . . I need . . . I just need to th- think for a moment," he decided. "W- would you mind staying h- here with me?"

"No, not at all. As long as you need," he whispered, continuing to hold the other as he's cried on the bathroom floor.

. . .

Back in Shuichi's room, Kokichi stirred in the otherwise still and quiet area. He sat up and looked around for a bit, pulling the covers to his chest. And despite it not being cold at all, he shivered.

He'd just woken up from a nap. All his crying had drained his energy and it didn't feel right to chase after Shuichi, he'd return when he was ready to talk. So he'd stayed put.

Looking over at the clock he realized that he'd been gone for about an hour or so, or he'd just been sleeping the entire time. Either way, he slowly became worried and filled with a strange sensation of guilt.

He was about to give up again and go back to sleep where reality and this new feeling couldn't hurt him, when Shuichi opened the door. He was quiet about it, probably assuming the other would be sleeping, but he moved more naturally when he saw he was awake.

He closed the door behind him, but didn't move any closer and it created an uncomfortable tension in the room. It was just the two of them, but for all either of them cared, it could've been thousands because they acted like complete strangers, watching one another closely, but cautiously. Waiting.

The silence was finally broken when Shuichi spoke. "H- hey?"

"Hey."

"So, . . . Um, about earlier . . ."

"Yeah?"

"Well, . . . Did Irima . . . tell you?" he inquired, nervously playing with the hem of his shirt.

"Uh, yeah. She did. And I'm embarrassed to say it, but I still don't know if she was lying or not."

"She . . . Well, . . ."

"It's alright. I don't need to know right now."

"So, . . . we're okay?"

"'Course we are." he said smiling.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

The rest of the evening went seemingly normally. It was almost as if the event had never occured. And the two hung out for a while and played a bunch of different card games with a deck Kokichi had found, though he refused to reveal from where.

If you didn't know of their situation, you could've guess they'd been friends since they were kids. Playing in their backyards together on weekends; staying up late at sleepovers to play video games; walking to sports practice; dancing with each other at dances because they didn't have anyone to go with. Typical friend things.

That's probably how it would've been had they met under different circumstances. And even though they didn't, that's how it seemed now.

Like the three nights before, they went to bed later that evening, Kokichi taking the bed and Shuichi lying beside it on the floor. And like then, it was quiet, tranquil.

But Kokichi couldn't help but stay up pondering what had happened earlier. What had happened earlier, anyways? They said it was fine, but did they really believe that?

He pushed these thoughts to the back of his mind for the time being, telling himself he'd figure it all out later. Soon it would all make sense. Soon it could really be normal again. And soon he'd have to say something.

Then what would he think? What would he say? If only he knew. If only you knew.

But hey, what are feelings anyways?

Soon he thought again. It appeared close. But he almost wished it didn't.