Experiment 5308-O.K.

Accomplices

"You're free to go, Ouma. If you're willing to talk, please don't hesitate to contact us." Two detectives sat across from the selectively mute boy, exasperated by his lack of information. All he'd done for three hours was cry or blankly stare. One detective scribbled a small note and slid it toward him. Ouma stared at it for a few moments, reading a name and string of numbers. He slowly stood and left the interrogation room without the paper.

Ouma continued through the institution until he reached the parking lot, running into Saihara's uncle. He'd come to take Ouma back home after detectives took him from school. Saihara wasn't allowed to join, and - after a lot of arguing - allowed them to take Ouma as long as he returned home unharmed.

He slipped into the passenger seat and stared out of the window, constantly tugging at the claustrophobic seatbelt. "How are you feeling, Ouma?" The boy continued to stare out of the window in silence. Ouma found pleasure in imagining a bird flying over cars and between street lamps.

The detectives questioned him for so long that he began wondering if he'd die there. They asked where he was from, who his family were and why he suddenly disappeared from an orphanage to reappear here followed by death and destruction. Ouma found it odd that they considered him a missing person.

That wasn't their main interest. They began asking him why someone tried to shoot him, as well as a previous incident where someone injected him with a strange substance on school grounds. Why didn't he go to a hospital or the police? No matter how much they asked, begged or threatened him, Ouma wouldn't say a word. Saihara told him to stay silent. Law enforcement wasn't trustworthy, they wouldn't help him.

"Do you want me to talk to the police for you?" Saihara's uncle spoke into the silence. "I'm a detective too, I could pull a few strings for you." Ouma refused to respond, continuing to follow the imaginary bird. The adult sighed and turned on the radio, allowing music to break the uncomfortable silence.

As soon as they arrived home, Ouma threw off his seatbelt and jumped out of the car before it was parked. He tried to open the front door and smiled when he found it unlocked. Removing his shoes, Ouma raced through the home and burst into Saihara's room. The bluenette sat on his bed watching his favourite murder mystery show again.

Ouma crawled into his boyfriend's lap, ducking under his bandaged arms so they could be close. Saihara turned off his show and wrapped his arms around the boy. He couldn't be happier that he didn't need to watch the show. The violent murders committed by contestants were repaid with a torturous demise as punishment. All of the contestants were kidnapped only to have their bloodlust fed by an insane, unknown mastermind. It triggered Ouma beyond belief and he often slipped into the bathroom to whimper as he reminisced involuntarily, but Saihara refused to stop watching it. As long as Saihara was happy...

"How did the interrogation go?" Saihara asked as his fingers softly weaved through the boy's hair.

"I didn't say a word."

"Good boy." Saihara kissed the top of his head, making Ouma grin. He'd giggle like usual but a thought plagued his mind, one that hadn't left since the interrogation. "Is something the matter?" Ouma hummed. Trust Saihara to notice something was wrong.

"What... What happened between you and Amami? In the garden."

"Nothing important," Saihara sighed. "We talked." Ouma looked up at him with a pout, making the older boy laugh. "Fine, you got me. I beat him up and left." The smaller man slowly nodded as he took in the information. His boyfriend simply smiled and turned on his show again.

Ouma pretended to watch the television, listening to Saihara gasp and squirm happily. He grabbed a tissue, knowing he'd need to occasionally wipe some drool from his chin during the show. The boy didn't flinch when he heard screaming and arguing from the television as he was too wrapped up in his thoughts.