Requested by @pinkkiss200. I don't have many Rantaro fics so I hope this turns out good! This could be platonic or romantic, whichever you prefer.
Fic title: At Least We Had This.
Y/N's POV
For the past three days in the killing game, happiness had ran through my veins and pulsed in and out of my heart. People were being threatened with death and I still remained the positive girl everyone had grown so accustomed to.
I knew that my joy wouldn't last, but I always seemed to forget how quickly and how strongly the sadness would hit.
I wasn't depressed or anything, my mood swings were just strong and frequent. Was it a bad thing? Yes and no.
Hours after the first motive was released, with six hours still on the clock and I was sobbing in my bed swaddled beneath the covers with a moutain of tissues next to me. Every negaitive thing in the world resonated with me so powerfully and I felt myself cracking under the burden of the situation I was in.
There were two knocks, then after a few seconds a third one.
I pulled myself out of bed and wiped away my tears. Then, I let them fall. No, I wasn't faking happiness. I was only human and I had every right to let people know I was down.
Scared of leaving my emotions raw and exposed, I persisted with opening the door anyway.
It was Rantaro Amami.
He took one look at my face. "Everything okay?"
I sniffed. "No and I don't know why."
He rested his hand on his chin until a lightbulb moment struck him. "Here's an idea: we get your mind off of this whole murder thing."
Meekly, I nodded in response. "I mean, you don't have to—"
"—No, no, don't worry about it. Seriously, I could do with a break from this game for a little bit. Come on, we can spend some time together, it'll be fun."
We left my dorm, not talking much, and we ended up in the kitchen. Most people were outside, making the most of the world before we all died.
I pushed the thought away. I just had to get out of this stupid sadness.
Rantaro's POV
We ended up in the kitchen, which had a decent amount of ingredients to work with for my plan.
"What are we doing here?" Y/N asked, her eyes still puffy from crying and her throat still tight.
"We..." I began, handing her a mug. "...are making hot chocolate."
She chuckled hoarsely. "Why, exactly?"
"Because it tastes good." I shrugged, closing one of the kitchen cabinets where I took the mugs from. "And because I want to spend some time with you. You seem pretty cool."
She smiled. "Aww, you don't seem too bad yourself, Mr. Ultimate Mystery."
Normally I would have tensed up at the comment, what with all the deja vu I was getting from this hellhole and the panic of the situation, but in this odd case I laughed. Maybe it was out of the adrenaline of the risky plan I had set up for later to end this killing game. "Well, let's get to it then."
We worked like cogs in a machine, smooth and dynamically, with Y/N prepping the ingredients and boiling the water and me measuring out how much of everything we needed.
For the best part of an hour, I didn't think about how the killing game felt oddly familiar to me or how easy it would be just to commit murder and be done with it. I thought about chocolate and the warmth in the kitchen. Was I the SHSL Chef or something? Did it even matter?
Tick tock.
Soon I'd be hunting for the mastermind and praying I could save the game. That door in the library held it all, I could feel it.
Y/N took a can of whipped cream and spiralled the can around, creating a pile of whipped cream on her hot chocolate.
"And for you..." She squirted only a small bit. She laughed to herself. "Kidding." She spiralled a large pile of whipped cream and sprinkled it with marshmallows. She stuck a candy cane in hers.
Odd. She'd seemed so down earlier and now she was so peppy. It was jarring, but not unwelcome.
We sipped in unison, leaning on the kitchen side. Y/N, still smiling, left the kitchen and sat in the cafeteria. Her head was in her hands.
"If this game dies..." Her tone was shaky again. What was even going on? She didn't make eye contact. "Can we still stay in touch?"
I smiled and sat my hot chocolate down next to hers. "Definitely. Look, here's my number." I scribbled down my phone number on her arm with a ballpoint pen. "Oh, that six is supposed to be an eight, by the way."
She sighed. She sipped her drink. "Well, at least we have this."
"This?"
"This whole situation with the hot chocolate. It's nice. Don't mind me." Her voice was even shakier, and she was almost in tears. "Things like this just... get to me, you know? If it makes you feel any better, I usually snap out of it sooner or later. I'll be fine."
Unsure of what to do, I sipped my hot chocolate. Tick tock. Deadline approaching.
"I'm going to go. We'll be out of here soon enough."
I never saw her again.
Y/N's POV
When I found Rantaro lying in the library, I flipped. I was throwing books, evidence, swearing so much that it'd put even Miu to shame. I'd stormed off to try and cool down in the cafeteria, and that's when I saw the two lone mugs sitting on the table. One empty, one with melted cream dripping down the side. When I touched them as I sat down, they both felt cold.
I sobbed a lot that night.
At least we had this.
Word count - 1000.