Woohoo! A character in not used to writing, and I'm really excited to try it out! If it's out of character at all I apologize. Requested by: PrismicStarryGlass
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"Nishishishi!"
I was walking in the main hallway when I heart an ominous yet familiar laugh echo from who knows where. I scanned around, unsure of the source of the laugh. Suddenly, I found myself meeting eyes with Ouma Kokichi, one of my classmates.
"Hello, Kokichi-San," I stated in an attempt to mask my shock at his sudden appearance. The boy's smile twisted, a strange glint in his eyes. "...are you alright?"
The boy merely laughed again, sending chills up my spine. Just what was he trying to do. I could only watch in horror as he began to snake his hand into his pocket. Sure enough, out of it came a sharp box cutter, the tip of it gleaming under the light. I froze up, unknowing of what to do. I didn't have anything to defend myself with, so I felt like a goner.
"What are you doing?" I asked, though I had a fair clue about his scheme. My eyes widened as I slowly began to back away.
"Nishishi... I want to get out of here, you know," the purple haired boy explained. "I can't bear being in this school... I have to kill someone. I need to murder. And then, I need to hide myself. I will make it out of here, no matter what the cost."
I was a bit confused as to why he just gave me that long winded explanation, but I took my cue to get the hell away from him as soon as he lifted the box cutter up, ready to strike. I began to sprint down the hallway, panting as I dodged the trees and greenery cutting through the hall.
I turned over my shoulder and saw the short boy still following, a dark grin on his face. I jerked to the right, hoping to shake him off of my trail. Unfortunately, I couldn't have been more unlucky.
I was met with a dead end.
I could only watch in horror as the boy stalked towards me, wielding his box cutter in hand. I let out a terrified whimper, praying for some sort of miracle. "Help! Somebody! Murder!"
"You fool, Baka, (y/n)-chan," the boy chuckled, soon after a deadpan expression forming on his face. After a short while, his words came out like a brick of ice; "no one is coming to save you."
I braced myself for the worst, shielding my body with my arms. After a few moments, I slowly opened my eyes again to find that Ouma had disappeared. I opened them completely, looking down at the ground in front of me to find the boy collapsed on the floor.
"He's dead!" I screamed, cupping my hands over my mouth.
"He's not dead," a smooth, deep voice assured me. I looked farther down the hallway and saw Ryoma standing there, wielding a tennis racket in hand. "He's merely unconscious. There's no way I'd risk killing someone given the stakes of this school."
"Did you do this?" I asked, noticing that the box cutter had slid away from the boy's unconscious body. I quickly picked it up, putting it in my pocket.
"Yes... I did what I had to do," the short boy assured me, tugging on his black beanie. He walked over to me, extending a stubby arm out to help me stand up. I took it, wobbling back up to my feet.
"Thank you," I exclaimed, crouching to pull the tennis player into a hug. Reluctantly, he hugged back. "I don't know if I'd be alive to say these words to you if you didn't come to save me."
"It's no problem," he assured me. "I know that you're plenty strong and capable of caring for yourself, but that was an unfair situation."
I nodded as the short boy pulled away from me. "You're insanely kind, you know that?"
He shook his head. "Not in the slightest, (y/n)-San. If you knew my past, you would think otherwise."
"Well... the past is the past," I stated, avoiding cringing at my own cliche. "What I mean is, you can't let something silly define who you are."
Ryoma grinned wryly. "I... suppose you're right. However, not even forgetfulness can cleanse my hands of their sins..."
"I highly doubt it could be too bad," I exclaimed dismissively.
"(Y/n)-chan..." he murmured, a strange, foreign chill in his voice. His eyes widened, as his face darkened. "I'm a murderer."
Before I could respond, I was startled by the sound of Ouma's body regaining consciousness. Ryoma gave me a determined look, gesturing for me to follow. "Come on, let's go."
I followed him down to my dorm room, which was actually a considerable ways away. When we arrived, we were able to thankfully find out that we weren't being followed.
"So, about what you said earlier..." I wondered out loud, my incomplete statement being sufficient enough to start the conversation up.
He held up his tennis racket, looking at it with a slightly shameful expression. "I've killed mafia members using this here racket, you know."
I opened my mouth to speak, but not a single work came out. He took the opportunity to elaborate. "I suppose you think differently of me now. After all, I'm a murderer-"
"I don't."
My words seemed to shock the boy, catching him off guard.
"I don't think differently of you at all, Ryoma-Kun. Even if you are a murderer... I don't mind. You're you, and that's all that matters."
The boy stared at me in shock, before turning to walk away from me. Before he left, I was able to barely hear his response.
"Thank you, my dear (y/n)-chan."
