Multi-Fandom Love stories

Danganronpa V3: A keepsake (Oumatsu & Saimatsu) 💔⏳

His hat, he had placed it on my head and pushed it down so I couldn't see.
He took me lightly by the shoulders then pulled it into an embrace. My arms wrapped weakly around his back, then without notice, my fist clenched the fabric of his blazer.

An embrace of parting, I wanted to speak, but my throat was clogged.
Everyone was staring, crying, and asking why. Why he killed Rantaro, and was he just pretending to be our friend to gain our trust?
Would he tell me? 'W-Why...?' My voice was weak and shaky, but I needed to know for my sake. He had to have a reason.
'I'm sorry... I... felt that I could get away with it, I guess this is what you would call; a detective's intuition,' he responded. He was lying, I saw through those lies even without seeing his face.
'You liar...' I muttered, as I gripped his shoulder harder.
'Yea...' his timidness and the stutter in his voice disappeared, it all seemed to be washing away, as the threat of death approached. Why didn't he tell me. No, he was lying and faking it for my sake, he wanted me to move on, and think he was terrible person who killed one of our dear friends, is that the truth?

'I'm really goanna die. Aren't I?' He said as if just now realising, he had shut off the thought of dying in his head, fear does that to people.
I flinched, and gave an even tighter grasp around him. I couldn't let him go, Shuichi, don't leave. What have these days of being trapped here meant to you. Was I just another face, did you see me, like I see you.
I just really want you to live.
We're goanna escape here together, right?
Right?

Shuichi's face was drained, blue and pale. Cold drops of sweat fell off his pale, pale skin. 'W-What's the real r-reason you-'
He put his finger to my lip, effectively shutting me up.
He knew I knew, knew what? I don't know. I felt like we've meet before, and his reason was to save me. From what? I don't know. Another time, another world even, where I had die, and he had lived, that's where I wanted to be. I wanted to take his place, I wished I was the one that died, and I'm sure the him in the universe where I died was thinking the same thing as me.
We established warmth in each others aching souls, cold bodies, and in the reality where I died and he didn't.

And before I knew it, his senses and mine were no longer intertwined, as a cold metal chain pulled him away, I was no longer in range of him, the warmth was gone, and he had been hoisted into the air by a collar with Monokuma's face on it. I chased after his hand, I touched the tip of his fingertip, then he was out of reach. A delayed slash of wind swung passed, from when he was pulled toward the ceiling.

There was nothing I could do. I didn't get the chance to say it.
Things were left untended, boiling over, and brewing in a pot of pent emotions.
'I... Love... You...' the words, had lost the person they were meant for, in a flash, I took a picture, I had it, but I lost the person in it. The picture of you by my side with everyone hand in hand was gone and replaced with a corpse, and neon pink blood.

No one seemed to hear what I said, as their eyes and ears were glued to the screen, that hung above our heads and showed us Shuichi, desperate, living, and we all knew he would not be here in just a few cruel seconds.
He went through a series of escape rooms, as the eyes of malice and disgust on him grew in number. No one but me knew what those eyes meant, and how they made him feel.

There were traps in the rooms, and when he set them off, knives, bullets, or arrows from above, would wound his face, arms and legs with scars. There was already blood dripping from his flesh. These traps hindered his progress with the room, and made his movements sluggish from the lost of blood.

When he got it wrong or took to long to clear the room, a spear would pounce up gouging its way through his flesh, then bone, and lastly his will.
This continued till he reached the last room. Upon reaching the last room, there was an exit, locked of course, he had to find the mechanism to open it. His body was covered from head to toe with festering wounds, burning, aching. Arrows protruded from his body, with blood dripping off their tips. The only thing of note in this last room, was a body outlined with chalk on the ground, but with no body in it. He tried to solve this final mystery as he moved closer to the chalk outline, but atlas the camera cut off, and we were left with his horrifying screams. Gunshots rang out from the screen, then nothing. Before the camera cut back in, police tape ran across the screen like a transition in a crime show.