The New Motive

Promises Made to be Broken

"Ouma, don't talk like that. We're gonna be fine. I promise."

"Oh, yeah?" he asked, his confident mask slowly crumbling before Shuichi's eyes. "How can you be so sure?"

"I . . . I don't know. But I won't let you die."

"But then you . . . No!" Then he hugged the other tightly  sobbing into his chest and grasping his shirt. "I can't do it! I can't do it! I can't do it! I won't! You can't make me!"

"No," he replied simply. "Of course not."

For a while they stayed like this. Shuichi comforting his  boyfriend and kissing his head, rubbing his back carefully as he hiccuped quiet cries here and there.

"Saihara-chan," Kokichi muttered softly once he'd stopped shuttering as much.

"Hmm?" he asked, still holding the other close to him.

"I'm scared."

"Don't be," he said. "I'm right here. I've got you. You're safe."

"I don't want to do this anymore, Shu."

"I know, . .   but it's gonna be okay."

"Saihara, . . . I wanna go home."

Shuichi caught his breath in his chest before sighing and simply responding with, "me, too."

. . .

By the time Monokuma had finally made the nighttime announcements, the weapons on the bed were moved to a corner of the room, currently concealed beneath a spare blanket, and the two males were lying down next to each other, thinking over their situation.

"We could just wait it out."

"And starve? No thanks. No way I'll let a Supreme Leader like myself die like that. But, honestly, there's not a whole lot else we can do."

"Yeah, there's no getting out of this one. So what's the plan?"

"Well, we're probably gonna make it out of here, so might as well enjoy it while we can," then he paused, visibly think I'm not something over, something that hurt to think about. "I'm gonna miss you."

"You won't have to. I promise. I'm not gonna lose you. And you're not gonna lose me. Got it?"

"Got it." His reply was small and kinda shakey, like he didn't entirely believe what he'd agreed to, but he wanted it to be the truth. More than anything. "Goodnight, Sai-chan. I love you."

"'Night Ouma." Everything was silent after that. No one spoke. And even if they did, the rooms were soundproofed, so one would have ever known. Not that they'd have really cared either way.

Shuichi couldn't make himself calm down enough to sleep. He kept thinking about everything that had happened so far in the killing game.

They'd all only just got to know one another. It didn't seem fair to do this. They were all just kids after all. High schoolers, yeah, but kids.

Then he thought back to how Monokuma had mentioned there being a mastermind behind all this. How they were a student here as well. Hiding among them all.

What kind of sick do you have to be to do all this? And which of mh friends is it? These thoughts swam through his head like glitter in a snow globe before finally settling down.

He turned to the smaller boy in the bed and held him close, not ever wanting to have to let go. To never say 'goodbye' to him. For everything to be perfect and normal again. For it to be like it was back then, before all of this nonsense happened. Whatever that was like. Did he really want that though? He wasn't sure.

So, he smiled, ters rolling down the side of his face into his hair as he mumbled a few soft words to the other before closing his eyes and resting peacefully, "I love you more," he whispered into the dark.

. . .

Over the next few days, as the headmaster had promised, they were given three meals each daily and everything was normal. They still went about their usual schedule. They just couldn't leave their rooms.

They were all completely isolated from each group, though. None of them were aware of weather or not anyone had escaped or killed anyone yet, or who'd done it. They were all clueless.

Shuichi and Kokichi spent most of their time getting to know one another better and trying to find loopholes in the motive or a way for both of them to escape. And at the time, there was nothing. Neither one of the males could think of how they would manage to get out without playing Monokuma's sick and twisted game.

He and whoever the mastermind was had thought this over.

Three days passed, them four, five. Their last day they'd be receiving any meals and their chances of survival were looking slim. And Shuichi was beginning to wonder if Kokichi had been right about the whole situation being hopeless and a waste of time.

The bluette was gloomy and spoke less than usual once he'd finally come to this painful realization, but Kokichi? He seemed happier than ever.

"What's wrong, Shu?"

"I just think that . . . I think you were right."

"'Bout?"

"About everything. This is hopeless. We aren't gonna get out of this place."

"Aw, don't be so down in the dumps about it," he smiled.

"How can you even say that?" he asked sadly.

The violette grabbed the teller's hands in both of his and looked up at him grinning brightly, "Because I've got a plan."

Shuichi couldn't say anything. He was stunned. They weren't gonna be stuck there forever. "What is it?"

Kokichi brushed some dust from the others shoulder and replied, "Go take a shower and change real quick, get your mind off everything else. Then I'll tell you, and we can get to work. 'Kay?"

Shuichi just let out sigh of relief and did as the other had instructed, getting a clean pair off clothes and heading over to the bathroom.

He didn't take long and he was drying his hair off when he heard it. A loud noise. A bang.

"Ouma!" Shuichi called out running out in th o the main room only half dressed, his navy blue hair still dripping water. Then he saw it . . . and it all made sense. But, God, he wished it didn't, because lying there in a heap on the floor was his boyfriend, bleeding.

There was a loud click that echoed off the walls of the room as the door to the room was unlocked and opened for them automatically.

The bang had been a gun. And now Shuichi felt all the life leave his body and he collapsed to the floor, his hands held tight to his mouth to hold back his screams of agony, as he sobbed next to the body.

He hadn't noticed it yet, but on the bedside table there was a note scrawled out in the violette's messy handwriting that read: See, I told you we'd make it. Now go live, for both of us. I love you.