Chapter Text
The killing game was over.
Shuichi replayed those words over and over in his head, sort of testing them, playing with them, searching for lies. Lies made the world go round, afterall. It felt too good to be true. For all he knew, this could be another lie.
A month ago, give or take, Future Foundation had reclaimed a city overrun by Junko Enoshima’s diabolical followers. The same city they just so happened to be trapped in, zoo animals performing in the menagerie that was their hell. The killing game had been another product of her influence, and the sixteen students (minus Tsumugi, the ringleader behind this season of the killing game) had all been helplessly held under their thumb from the get go. It was unclear whether the audition tapes had been fabricated or not, and Shuichi wouldn’t dwell on it if he knew what was good for him. It was like reopening a healing wound. Shuichi Saihara was who he was, now and forever. Ultimate detective or not, he’d been shaped by his experiences and relationships, faux memories that felt so undeniably real to him. He could spend hours, days, years pondering and theorising, digging up information on the stranger that inhabited his body before the killing game. He could drive himself mad with questions that could never be answered. The stranger was as good as dead. Perhaps he was okay with that. He had to be.
For now, at least. He allowed himself that mercy.
In the grand scheme of things, Shuichi was ultimately helpless. As helpless as he was when he stumbled out of that locker. Helpless as he watched his friends drop one by one, committing the unspeakable. Betraying. Killing. Mourning.
But that had all been a lie.
They were alive. The killing game was over. The killing game was over. The killing game was over.
A shudder pulled the boy out of his stupor.
The cold night air cut through his bones, making the tiny hairs on his arms stand to attention. He snaked his reddening hands further into the sleeves of his polo coat, shrugging further into the warm material.
Following their departure from the hospital, Future Foundation had provided them all with basic housing, and a small allowance that allowed them to buy the necessities of daily living. They were still teenagers, afterall. Officially, they were under their care. Although physical rehabilitation had been successful to an extent, mentally not all of his classmates were still sound, including himself admittedly. It had been decided that keeping them close would be the best course of action, which landed them in the nearest city that shadowed their headquarters.
Shuichi slowly ascended a set of concrete steps, slick with trampled snow. About halfway up, his heel decided to have a mind of its own and slid back, causing his hands to fly out in front of him. He wobbled about for a moment, before steadying himself against the railing, breathing hard through his nose as he rode out the sudden rush of adrenaline. Perhaps it was time to start gritting the stairs. The young detective sighed, and continued up a little more carefully.
The apartment complex itself looked as though it had seen better days, but for now, it was their home- ah, save for Miu, Kirumi and Angie, who had found themselves driven to pursue a form of career within Future Foundation’s walls. Miu had lasted about a week in her new apartment before it had driven her mad, their new home couldn’t provide the type of busywork needed to satiate the mind of an enthusiastic inventor like herself. Kirumi had refused the offer outright. Perhaps out of guilt, or a deeper sense of purpose that came with the nature of her fabricated past, Shuichi could only speculate. Angie was a free spirit. She’d shown great interest in getting involved with Future Foundation’s rehabilitation program for those who had been affected by despair, and so found her calling as a shepherd for lost souls seeking guidance.
Aside from those three, the rest of them had settled in surprisingly fast. Although the majority of them had to share their living space with another, it was a breath of fresh air compared to the stifling dormitory from within the ‘ark’, where the air felt heavy with the weight of looming death.
As for Tsumugi… the girl was being questioned in detainment. It was likely going to be a while before he could meet her face to face again. Shuichi wasn’t sure he wanted to at all. It was up to debate whether she had been another victim of Junko’s influence, or if she was simply in it for the thrill of the game.
Shuichi bit his lip. He tasted copper. He couldn’t feel it.
The killing game was over. The killing game was over. The-
Before he could touch his apartment door, it swung open in front of him abruptly.
“Oh, Shuichi! You scared the shit out of me!”
Ah. Kaito was awake, afterall.
Like a deer caught in headlights, Shuichi’s mouth hung open wordlessly. It was pretty late. Had he been the one to wake him up?
The boy in front of him flashed a nervous grin, before his hands settled on his shoulders. Not enough to hurt, but enough to convey a hint of distress that his unwavering voice seemed to mask.
“Where were you, man? I was just about to go look for you!”
“I, uh,” Shuichi’s gaze flitted from the ground to just over Kaito’s shoulder, at the clock. It was four in the morning, “I couldn’t sleep. I just needed to clear my head for a minute… Sorry. I should have left a note or something.”
Kaito studied him for a moment, perhaps looking for traces of a lie, before scrunching his nose and letting go, rubbing the back of his neck with a sigh and peeling off his own jacket. “Geez. It’s so cold,” he ushered Shuichi inside before closing the door softly, “Don’t blame me if you get sick, alright?”
“Um… Did I wake you up?” Shuichi finally asked, breathing into his hands and rubbing them together to will some feeling back into them. His knuckles were stark white, like exposed bone. It was a little sickening to look at. “I was trying to be quiet.”
“I only woke up when I heard the door shut. Don’t worry about it,” Kaito kicked off his shoes and sauntered his way into the kitchen. “It was just a little weird, y’know. You suddenly leaving in the middle of the night. At first I thought you’d gone to see Kokichi or something, so I was gonna leave it at that. I’m not your mom.”
Shuichi’s face flushed a little at the thought. He shook his head with an amused exhale. There was some kind of joke behind those words, but he didn’t have the energy to call him out on it. He did spend a lot of time with Kokichi, afterall. Their relationship was… hard to put into words. Of course it couldn’t be something as simple as falling in love. Caught between his feelings of betrayal during the game, the grim realisation that came after his ‘death’, and the sheer relief he’d felt when he’d pulled him into his arms from his hospital bed. Kokichi was mental whiplash incarnate. He’d cheated death, like the rest of them, and this time Shuichi wouldn’t let him go.
Kaito continued.
“But you’re not the type to suddenly leave without saying anything like that unless it’s an emergency. I got a little paranoid, so I shot Keebo a message, and he told me you weren’t there. That’s when I just decided to suck it up and go look for myself.”
Ah. Poor Keebo. When Future Foundation had set them up in their new accommodation, it was only natural that they would end up living with someone else. Given that this was a pretty old building, and Future Foundation was working with pretty limited resources with how quickly they had to whip up a housing plan for them, not all of the rooms were ready to be lived in. Of course, some thought had gone into their living arrangements to avoid potential conflict, and for whatever reason, Keebo had ended up with Kokichi of all people. Perhaps because he was the most patient of them, and the least likely to wring his neck when pushed far enough. Even outside of the simulation, Keebo was still the ultimate robot. That revelation would have been amusing, if it wasn’t a little sad, given how disappointed the boy had been with the lost prospect of waking up in a human body.
“I feel a bit silly now,” Kaito placed a hand on his hip, “But I’m glad you’re okay. Oh, and I don’t regret it. If something really had happened… You’ve heard the news.”
“Oh.”
Right. Shuichi had been so preoccupied with his own spiralling thoughts that it had completely escaped him.
Although Future Foundation’s cities were, for the most part, safe, there was no way they could keep a leash on everybody living within their boundaries. Nor animal, apparently. Three separate reports of fatal dog attacks had the entire city on edge. There were plenty of strays outside of the city, sure, but these maulings had been devoid of the desperation a pack of hungry dogs would bring. The bites were clean, precise. Full of intent to kill as quickly as possible. No evidence of the corpses being devoured, or even tampered with. They were killed for sport.
Whether this was truly a dog gone rampant, or some sick individual deliberately siccing their canine on innocent victims in the dead of night, the entire situation felt bizarre.
Bizarre seemed to be the norm, but he could never see himself getting used to it.
“All of the victims have been women, but… you can’t be certain that’ll stay the case.” Kaito scratched his chin nervously.
“It’s alright, Kaito. I just felt a bit restless, y’know?” Even now, Shuichi couldn’t help but fidget with the cuff of his sleeve. Restless was an understatement. Something had been prickling underneath his skin all day. Like static. It wouldn’t let him relax.
“In that case, you should just take me with you next time!” He suggested with a grin, “I won’t be able to sleep anyway, if you keep disappearing like that.”
“Is that really okay?” Shuichi was taken aback a little by the offer, “I won’t do it anymore if it means I’m disturbing you…”
“Nah, it’s no problem at all. I get it. Sometimes you’ve just gotta move around, stretch your legs. It’ll do us some good after being stuck in those pods for all that time.” Kaito grimaced. His expression twisted at the reminder, before falling into something softer. More bittersweet. “Think of it as our new training routine! This time, we get to see the real stars.”
“Yeah…” Shuichi mirrored his expression. That’d be nice. He needed routine now more than ever.
“But if we want Maki Roll to join us, it’s gotta be a little earlier than three in the morning…”
“Ah, r-right,” Shuichi cleared his throat. “I suppose that’d be a little more sensible.”
“Then it’s settled! I’ll ask her how she feels about it tomorrow! Or, uh, today I guess. Later. After I’ve taken a nap,” Kaito yawned into his palm.
Shuichi glanced at the window. The moon was waxing. Tomorrow it’d be full, and brilliant.
“Oh!” Kaito struck hands together, making Shuichi jump, “That’s it!”
“Huh?”
“The reason you can’t sleep! Some people get really restless when it’s a full moon,” Kaito gestured to the window, “I mean, that’s not until tomorrow- or, uh, tonight, but it might have something to do with why you can’t relax?”
“Isn’t that just a myth?” Shuichi rubbed his eyes. The walk hadn’t done much for him in terms of the building tension in his legs, but his body was flagging.
“Nah dude, it fucks with your melatonin. Maybe you’re just a bit more sensitive to it.”
“I’m not sure that’s a thing…”
“I’m sure it is!” Kaito exclaimed with newfound energy, “Here, let’s look it up!”
-
What began as a bizarre internet diagnostic turned into a four hour deep-dive into space conspiracies. By the end of it, Kaito had ended up passing out on the couch, limbs strewn out like a thrown rag doll. Shuichi pulled one of the throw blankets out from storage and tentatively laid it across his snoring roommate.
It wasn’t the first time Shuichi had pulled an all-nighter, but it never got any easier. His brain had coagulated into a mushy soup, and his eyes were sore and twitchy from how much he’d been rubbing at them all night. He wanted nothing more than to pass out where he stood and sleep the day away.
The flicker of electricity in his veins was ever present. Steady and humming, as though he were made of unrefined energy. It seems as though his body had other plans.
This was gonna be a long day.
Whining pathetically, he dragged himself to the bathroom. A long, hot shower could breathe a little life back into his aching limbs. His knees felt as though someone had taken a wooden bat to them. A deep aching in his muscles that couldn’t be dismissed as restlessness anymore. Perhaps sickness? He wouldn’t be surprised if he had caught a cold, just as Kaito had warned.
I suppose I did that to myself.
The shower helped a little. He’d stayed in there until his skin turned raw pink. It took an embarrassing amount of effort to tear himself away from it’s warm embrace, but the shame of using up all of their hot water motivated him enough to finally wrap himself up in a towel and stumble back to his room, tendrils of steam still clinging to his shoulders. He chucked his dirty clothes into the little basket that sat by his door and towel dried his hair to a point where it stopped trying to wrap around his forehead with every small movement. It was still damp and a little uncomfortable, but it wasn’t like he was heading back outside anytime soon. After shrugging on some clean clothes, a plain t-shirt and some comfortable joggers he’d yet to really wear in, he began to saunter his way towards the kitchen-
-and immediately collapsed to his knees with a hard thud.
“Ghk-“
He choked out a pained groan, his vision blurring as he dug his nails into the carpet in an attempt to ground himself. It did nothing. The onslaught of white hot fire running down his spine was enough to blur his vision. The pain rolled over him in waves, ebbing in rhythm with his racing pulse, as though his heart were pushing a deadly poison into his blood. He covered his mouth with his free hand, shakily breathing through gritted teeth. The flash of pain was beginning to fade as quickly as it had appeared, leaving him in a state of utter bewilderment.
What the fuck was that? A mini heart attack? Was it going to come back?
Shuichi let his hand fall from his mouth, trembling.
“Wuh-wha? What was that?” A drowsy gasp from his roommate somewhere in the living room had his breath catch in his throat. He almost ran right through Shuichi, throwing his hand out against the doorframe in time to stop just above his shoulder. “Shuichi? What are you doing on the floor, man?”
He hadn’t even attempted to move from where he had fallen, afraid of flaring up whatever the hell that ailed him again.
“Shit. You look pale,” A hand was pressed against his forehead, and quickly removed with a hiss, “You’re burning up, too.”
Shuichi hummed, curious. If anything, he felt colder than usual. A few beats of silence passed before fingers were snapping in front of his nose.
“Hello? Earth to Shuichi?”
Shuichi shook his head, immediately regretting the motion as he lurched. He settled with sitting on his heels, “I’m fine. Just… give me a second.”
“Seriously, man. I can’t help you unless I know what’s wrong,” Kaito sighed, eyebrows furrowing with a mixture of frustration and concern. He offered a hand out to get Shuichi back on his feet, and Shuichi took it with appreciation. “Should I call someone?”
“No, no that’s not necessary,” he let his roommate guide him back to bed as they spoke. Although the gesture felt a little excessive, he didn’t protest. He just wasn’t used to being coddled. “I might have passed out for a second? I-I’m not sure. I’m feeling kind of scrambled...”
“Yeah, I can tell,” Kaito stepped back after helping Shuichi settle back into bed, back against the headboard. “You’ve got yourself one hell of a fever.”
“I’m sorry-“
“Don’t start apologising.” Kaito waved him off. “Besides, my grandpa used to fall over all the time. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve had to look after him from his bed. It’s kind of nostalgic, in a way.” His face fell into something unreadable for a fraction of a second, before forming back into a smile, “I’m totally used to it. So don’t sweat it.”
He wasn’t sure how to feel about that.
“Ah, uhm… thank you?”
“It’s alright, man. I know you’ll have my back if I ever get sick anyway,” he flashed a proud grin, “That’s just what buds do. Make sure you get some rest!”
“Of course.”
Despite his circumstance, the thought of resting had Shuichi wanting to tear his hair out. He’d give anything for a moment of peaceful rest, yet his body was as tense as a tightly coiled spring. He watched Kaito’s back disappear into the hallway, and he resigned himself to staring at the ceiling in silence, sinking down until his head nestled in his pillow.
He should at least try to sleep…
The boy closed his eyes.
…
Apparently he had been successful, because at some point he’d woken up to a plastic paper bin in his lap, and somebody rubbing circles between his shoulders.
A noise of confusion escaped his throat, but before he could ask any questions lingering on the end of his tongue he wretched. Bile whipped at the edges of the bucket, sloshing around as he struggled to hold it still with how violently his hands were shaking. Once he’d stopped gagging into the plastic, the bucket was removed and replaced with a glass of cold water.
“Drink this. Ah, don’t chug it though, you’ll throw up again.”
Shuichi nodded tearily, bringing the glass up to his lips. His head was pounding.
“We don’t have any medicine,” Kaito sighed, turning towards the window. Shuichi did the same, the motion reigniting some of his nausea.
It was snowing. With how cloudy the sky was, it was almost impossible to tell the time. Early evening, perhaps? “I was gonna wait to see if the snow would let up, but it doesn’t seem like it’s gonna be stopping anytime soon.”
“Don’t haf’t…” Shuichi cringed at the sound of his own voice, strained and raw.
“If it makes you feel any better, Maki is gonna take me to the pharmacy. She’s a better driver in the snow,” he scratched the back of his neck and chuckled fondly, “I’m just a little worried about leaving you by yourself. I’m not sure how long I’ll be…”
“I’ll be fine,” Shuichi croaked out, “You’re already doing more than enough for me…”
Kaito crossed his arms and studied the boy silently. After a minute, he sighed, and placed the (thankfully now empty- when did he take it away?) waste bin within reach of the bed. “Just… don’t do anything dumb while I’m gone. If you need help, don’t be afraid to call someone.”
Shuichi nodded, miserable.
“I’m serious. Like I said, I don’t know how long this is gonna take. If I come back and you’ve passed out on the floor in your own vomit because you tried to answer the door I’ll be pissed off.”
“That’s disgusting, Kaito.” Shuichi would have laughed if he had the energy to do so.
“I’m just telling you how it is,” Kaito smirked. The two boys flinched at the sound of a bleating car horn, “That’s my cue. She’ll kill me if I make her wait any longer.”
“Good luck. A-and thank you. I mean it,” Shuichi crossed his hands over the quilt sheet, fighting the urge to apologise again. Without warning, a heavy hand fell on his back. Several strong pats. Reassuring, albeit a little dazing. Such a small gesture was enough to rattle his brain around.
“Bwah-“
“Of course you do! Anyway, I told you, it’s no problem at all!”
A few more bleats of a car horn had Kaito pulling back with a little more urgency. “Okay, okay! I really need to go now. Just try to go back to sleep?” A curt salute, and he was off. A few minutes later, the sounds of heavy wheels on snow, a smeared headlight against frosted windowpane, and they were peeling off out of the driveway.
The snow continued to paint the city stark white.
Occasionally, a draft sifted in through the filter above the windows. He sank further into the bed, pulling the blanket up to his chin and twisting around until it cocooned him, now fully facing the window with his body. He watched the snowflakes. Tried counting the ones that stuck to the window. In Kaito’s absence, it really sank in how quiet their apartment was.
Absently, he wondered how Kokichi was doing.
Perhaps he’d go see him, when he felt better.
…
The snow hadn’t stopped.
The grey sky had fallen into a smokey black, street lamps illuminated the city through the haze of icy droplets, the entire scene blurred through condensated windows.
Shuichi yawned, feeling the drag of carpet against his jaw. At some point, he must have rolled out of bed and taken everything with him. Waking up in such disarray was sure to leave him with aching joints, yet he felt nothing of the sort. In fact, he felt almost… invigorated. That terrible soreness resting deep within his muscles had worked itself out, somehow. It left him with an odd feeling, like there was a faint disconnection between his brain and body.
He yawned again. His tongue was too big for his mouth. He ran them along his teeth. Foreign. Confusion was shortly overpowered by a creeping discomfort spreading throughout his entire being.
Shuichi was hungry.
Agonisingly hungry.
This wouldn’t do.
His shoulder popped as he stretched his arms (legs?) out in front of him. That nauseous feeling that had been haunting him all day had abruptly disappeared and been replaced with a ravenous beast that howled and clawed at him from the inside. Eat! Eat! It screamed at him relentlessly. I’m trying, he wanted to snap back, yet all that came out was a pitched whine.
Being sick had really done wonders for his throat, hadn’t it?
Shuichi's body moved on autopilot, but his legs couldn’t seem to get the memo. He stumbled around his room like a newborn foal. He flipped his clothes basket and hit the wall. Ungraceful. If Kaito walked in on him like this, he’d never let it down. The young detective would surely die from embarrassment on the spot, tangled up in his own laundry on the floor, stumbling around like some drunkard.
Come to think of it-
His own shirt was nowhere to be seen, but his trousers and undergarments had twisted around his back legs awkwardly, ensnaring him. Of course! Why hadn’t he noticed as soon as he started moving? He shouldn’t be wearing clothes! He had thick layers of silky black fur covering his body to keep him protected from the elements. Clothes would only hinder his movement. He must have been really out of it if he hadn’t noticed something as obvious as that. He clenched one pant leg between his teeth, and yanked. It took a few tries, awkwardly twisting and writhing around, before his legs were freed from the snare. Satisfied, he stood back up, stretching out his back legs, testing them. He revelled in success for a moment, tongue lulling out of parted jaws.
Panting like some wild animal.
Ah. He was still hungry.
As though he’d practiced it his entire life, he lifted his head up to sniff the air, and began to pad in the general direction his nose took his body.
Without warning, something cold and metallic smacked his nostrils. He sneezed. Reeling his head back and leaning onto his haunches, he pawed at his muzzle with a whine. Ouch. He shook off the dull ache and smacked his lips, letting out a huff of frustration. Beyond that thick iron laid something enticing.
He had to get to it- but how?
Break it.
Testing the waters, he lifted a large paw up to the seal of the refrigerator door, raking his claws over the tacky rubber over and over until it began to scrape off in ribbons. Moisture from inside the box dampened the coarse fur covering his rough pawpads. He licked it off, hoping to get a taste of the blood and meat that laid out of reach, teasing him. It tasted like a cleaning agent, but did nothing to deter him.
Perhaps a bit more force was called for. Razor teeth hooked around the concave handle, and he tugged as hard as his body would allow him, sliding forwards with each movement. It was difficult to purchase grip on laminate tiling. The fridge wobbled dangerously, yet the boy remained undeterred. After several fullbody tugs, the door finally gave way and swung open with such force that it bounced off the wall with a crack. One of the shelves fixed to the inside of the door clattered to the ground, sending delightful fragments of eggshell and yolk to splatter across the kitchen floor. He slurped them up without a second thought, relishing in the way the eggshell crumbles between his molars. Once he’d reduced the eggs to nothing more than a smear of saliva on the tiles, he moved on to claim his prize.
A large pack of raw chicken breasts.
Given the nature of Kaito’s dream occupation, he often sought lean meats and bulking foods that enriched his active lifestyle. He took up a moderate amount of space in their shared refrigerator. Shuichi, on the other hand, was a picky eater. He’d turn his nose up at oily foods, and favoured gentle, more traditional dishes that were easy to digest. Fish, rice, natto, things like that.
The second to go was a plastic tub of leftover fried chicken.
By the time he’d finished pushing the tub around with his nose, his stomach felt empty once more. This wasn’t nearly enough.
Four eggs, this time boiled. Shell excluded, to his disappointment.
Some sort of beef jelly, perhaps a soup stock. He didn’t stop to think. It was salty and wonderful.
A strip of breakfast sausages, plastic casing and all.
It still wasn’t enough.
He stuck his head deeper into the glass shelves, snuffling around desperately for more, yet finding nothing even when his nose met the wall. When he yanked his head back out clumsily, he dragged the shelf above him along with it, jumping back with an alarmed bark when it exploded into fragments on the kitchen tile. With nothing left to venture, and a belly unsatisfied, Shuichi turned out of the kitchen and towards the front door.
He was so, so hungry.
-
“What the fuck?”
Always expect the unexpected.
Something that was way easier said than done. There was no way anybody could live like that, it’d be exhausting. Borderline paranoia. It was one thing to be a skeptic, but constantly checking over one’s shoulder for danger sounded boring. What was life without its thrills?
Anyway, there was a wolf on Kokichi’s bed.
Not a dog. He knew what dogs looked like, thank you. Dogs had soft faces and wide chests. Some had curly tails (his favourite kind, the ones that yapped and circled around his feet) and this was certainly no shiba inu. Paws the size of his head. A narrow chest and long, gangly legs. Sleek, black fur. Piercing yellow eyes. Or were they green- grey? It was hard to tell, when his only source of light was from the hallway.
Either way. There was a wolf. In his room.
Kokichi lowered the mop he’d been clutching with enough force to dent. Something he’d snatched up after returning to the apartment and finding the door wide open. Keebo wasn’t careless enough to do such a thing, and Kokichi had been the last one to leave. As much as he despised the cold, it was no fun sitting in the apartment by himself, so he’d made his merry way over to the arcade he frequented. Surprisingly still up and running, despite how heavy the snow had begun to lay. It was busy, too, but that was even less surprising, given the time of year. Tis the season, and all. Sometimes Kokichi tried to guess which ones would break up after christmas.
Oh yeah- the door. So maybe he’d forgotten to lock it. Whoopsie.
But he’d definitely closed it, at the very least. And so he’d quickly deduced that there was most likely someone ransacking the apartment. They were situated on the lower floor, afterall. Easy pickings for someone who wanted a quick escape.
He wasn’t quite sure what he’d planned to do with the burglar once he’d found them. Bash them over the head with the mop? Threaten them with it? He’d have the advantage of range, but he wasn’t quite sure how effective that would be in a real struggle. He’d had the forethought to call Keebo just before he ventured in, a short: “Someone broke into the apartment, I’m gonna go whack them-“ and he’d cut off the call when he heard yelling over the other end.
Kokichi shuddered. The snowdrops clinging to his parka’s hood were beginning to melt into the back of his neck. He fidgeted nervously. The canine stood, tense. Neither wanted to make the first move, and so they remained in this bizarre standoff. That was, until a familiar voice redirected their attention.
“K-Kokichi? Are you there?”
A hesitant voice echoed down the hallway. Heavy footsteps rushed towards his room.
As soon as Keebo veered around the corner, Kokichi pounced, snaking a hand around his mouth and shaking his head. “Shhh!” He pleaded, placing the broom against the wall and kicking the bedroom door shut. “No yelling! Okay?”
The robot boy looked downright furious.
“If this is another one of your pranks-“
“I caught the burglar!”
“What?!” Keebo stepped back, eyes widening. “You-“ he glanced at the door, and back at Kokichi. Then at the door again. “You can’t be serious.”
“Yup,” Kokichi crossed his arms behind his head to hide the way his hands were twitching. “I caught him sleeping on my bed.”
A moment of silence between them. Keebo pinched his brow, “…Care to elaborate?”
If robots were capable of gaining headaches, he was certain Keebo was developing one right now.
“Ooonly if you promise not to freak out.” He pressed his finger to his lips, “Who knows what sort of crazy shit you’re capable of! You might even self-destruct out of shock!” Kokichi cried out, with a little dramatic flare. Anything to offset the building nervousness inside of him, “You’ll singe my hair off! I’ll have my organisation turn you into the ultimate wig!”
“Thats not- ugh. I’m already freaking out! Just-“ Keebo pushed past him, “Stay back. And call the police, if you haven’t already…” he pondered for a second, “Please.”
“Oh, my dear, ignorant Keebo. Have you forgotten? I’m a five star criminal, calling the police is as good as turning myself in! It must be hard only having four gigabytes of memory, huh. Even my phone has more storage than you.”
“Kokichi!”
“Whatever. Just open the door already. See for yourself."
Rolling his eyes, Keebo pressed forward and swung the door open. Before he could set a foot through the doorway, a flash of black barrelled it’s way through the two. Keebo hit the wall with a frightened gasp, and Kokichi fell back painfully on his rear.
“Ough!” Kokichi choked out, winded as something heavy pistoned down onto his chest, pinning him to the floor. He pushed back against the weight, gripping handfuls of fur and thick hide.
Kokichi was certain he was going to die young. Hell, he had already died. A second chance to live a full life, and here he was, ready to meet an abrupt end at the jaws of some stinkin’ mutt.
Something cold pressed against his forehead. Wet.
He recoiled from the odd sensation, cracking one eye open.
Soft features, absent of bared teeth. No pinned ears or tablecloth muzzle. Instead, he was met with wide, curious eyes. Lips upturned, ever so slightly. It almost looked like a smile.
Weren’t wolves usually stoic? It was such a human expression, Kokichi almost thought-
A sharp yelp, and the wolf jumped off of him, much to his own detriment as he was winded a second time. Kokichi sat up, clutching his stomach with a painful wheeze. Keebo had managed to get his hands on that mop, stepping between the boy and the wolf, waving it around threateningly.
“Kokichi! Are you alright? Did it bite you?”
Kokichi sat there for a moment, stunned. Then he shook his head wildly, scrambling back to his feet. He placed a hand on Keebo’s shoulder.
“I don’t think you should-“
“Why didn’t you just say it was a stray dog?” Keebo glanced over his shoulder, before training himself back on the beast in front of him. The wolf was poised to spring into action, hackles raised and tail straight. Kokichi wasn’t sure whether it was going to fight or run. “I wouldn’t have opened the door if I knew! Damn it, what if it tries to attack someone else?”
“I think you just scared it when you started swinging around that stick like an angry neanderthal. Hey, would you look at that? You’re getting closer to being human with every bad decision you make!” He beamed, “Congrats, Keeboy!”
“Is this really the time for your robophobic remarks? There’s a more pressing issue at hand.” He shifted uncomfortably.
“You’re right. Do you think we’ll get in trouble for keeping a pet here?”
“That’s not what I’m trying to say!” Keebo fully turned towards him, exasperated.
The moment he’d done so, the wolf broke into a sprint, claws sliding across the floor in a mad scramble before it flew out of the door.
“Ah- wait! Don’t!” Kokichi found himself moving before he really knew what was happening. He burst out of the apartment, Keebo close behind, only to watch uselessly as the canine disappeared into an alleyway. The snow was almost up to his knees, any chance of pursuit had been smothered. He felt Keebo’s presence settle next to him, hand on his chin in thought. Kokichi turned to him with a grin.
“That was totally a wolf, right?”
“Impossible,” Keebo furrowed his brow, “Wolves have been extinct in Japan for a long time.”
“Maybe we found the last one?”
“Even so,” the robot tilted his head, “Wolves are naturally quite timid creatures. Much like any other wild animal, they steer clear from humans if they can help it. Ah, of course there are factors that could bring a wolf closer to a city, but we don’t have any roaming game that would draw them in.”
Kokichi rolled his eyes, “Wow. You really know your stuff. Is this because you're connected to WiFi now?”
“I won’t entertain you,” Keebo spun on his heel and marched back towards their door. He only stopped when he’d realised Kokichi hadn’t followed. “You’re not staying out here, right?”
“Of course not. It’s cold as fuck,” Kokichi shuddered. In that short amount of time, a small pile of snow had begun to accumulate on his shoulders. He shook it off and trudged back towards the apartment, taking one last glance at the fading prints embedded deep into the snow. Hesitant to depart.
What was the issue? It was a wild animal. He couldn’t ask questions, nor reason with it. He’d grown attached to the cute, oversized doggy, and now he was sad it left. It was as simple as that. There was no need to worry.
Yet for some reason…
Kokichi bit his thumbnail.
The cold must be getting to him.