"Core of Petals" // SaiOma (REMAKE)

Promises Aren't Always Kept

"Don't promise something you can't keep, Shuichi." 
"...Shuichi?"

Coughs and drips of blood drop onto the floor, bleaching the carpet pink. A gush of petals followed, submerged in ichor.

"Wh—what do you mean?" Shuichi gasped, slightly stepping back from his place.
"You know what I mean." Kokichi uttered, glaring at him.

The room fell into stillness, but there was an intense vibe that suffused the air around them both. It was shattered by a slight exhale. 

"Goodnight Kokichi." Shuichi suspired in the end.

He locked the door on the way out. By the end of the talk, Kokichi was at a loss for words. A dejected feeling overwhelmed his cramming soul.

worry.

panic.

hope?

always be gone.

Shuichi stood outside the door with no plans, no thoughts, empty. He clenched his fist in guilt with an agonizing emotion.
"Shuichi!! We've more clues."

Notebook in hand and everyone in sight, paper was torn and thrown to the ground like a bolder down a hill, piece after piece.  Shuichi shot annoyed glances toward Kokichi, and then in a sudden change, smiled. The smile he sent across was soft, gentle but somehow serious at the same time. Like a mixture of emotions that wasn't meant to be mixed.

Monokuma materialized behind a fog of smokey, grey mist. "Oh—hoho! Only a day or two until Class Trial's!! You best being having a fun time, I see?" A quick glance at Kokichi caught his focus.

"You too, eh?"

"Leave." Kokichi muttered.

"Feisty, hm?" He said, voice scratchy before disappearing once again.

A dozen eyes were caught on him. Burning glares like a fire-pit at noon. Utters were said, only managing to hear some of them "I told you."

"Care to explain, Kokichi?" Himiko questioned, her hands on her hips.

"No." He replied quickly.

Regret from the sentence boiled up inside of him like mentos in a coca cola bottle.
"Get out, we'll solve the rest from here." A voice called from behind him, loud and personal.

Forcing himself to obey the others, he left the room. The last words he heard stained his heart:

"It's him."

"You need the surgery." Shuichi spoke softly, a different tone to what was normally heard.

"You really think I'd be able to get a surgery in here? Use your head, Saihara-chan. And besides, I wouldn't want it anyway." I don't want to forget you. I'm not ready to let go.

"Well if you're not going to tell me, it's the best option." Shuichi murmured.

"For the last time, you will find out eventually. You're the Ultimate Detective anyway," answered Kokichi plainly.

"Real funny. This is serious. You're dying." He said.

"No need to remind me." Kokichi whined, playing with his hands as a distraction from the sharp pains in his stomach.

The familiar, tiled dormitory was engulfed in dust and dirt. The ceiling was home to many spiders and creepy-crawlies. Every dorm-room was the same. The only difference was who was living in them.

Blood was spilling from Kokichi's lips, petals in hand. Severe coughing fits was his daily, and yet the aching like hot knives stabbing his soul wasn't nearly enough to tell the reason of them, especially if they were in the same room.

...and especially if he was almost dead.