TW :: gender/body dysmorphia,, break downs,, self deprecation.
Shuichi stared in the mirror, his wheelchair positioning himself to wear his chest was at the height of the counter right below the mirror. His eyes met with his own, the reflection shining back at him tauntingly. He hated how he looked. Each one of his feminine features sticking out like a sore-thumb, his chest pulling forward despite the binder wrapped around him. Shuichi pulled at his cheek, watching the chunk of fat jiggle back onto his face as he let go of it. He wished he could be blind. If he was blind he wouldn't have to see how feminine he really was everyday.
Shuichi sighed, his lips parting as he stared down at his feet. They fell limp underneath him, his eyebrows knitting together angrily. He couldn't even feel them or move them, so why should they even be there? Why doesn't Dr. Nevermind-Sama cut them off since they're so useless? It's just dead-weight anyway, Shuichi didn't need them if they're unusable.
He reached for his notebook again, before stopping and recoiling his hand back. If he stopped trying to use his voice now, all his progress would go down the drain. He'd make all his friends sad.
Shuichi rolled back in his wheelchair, his hands shaking against the wheels' rails. He needed to get Kokichi from his room anyway, today was the day they were supposed to join the others at breakfast. It would be the first time Kokichi saw another person other than Shuichi and Kaede, so today was a big day.
Shuichi rolled himself out of the bathroom, scooting to the door and pushing it against the door stopper. He took in a deep breath, watching as all the nurses skittered around the hallway with their clipboards and hair bouncing behind them. The strong scent of freshly made laundry and medicine wafted around the air as Shuichi breathed out a heavy sigh. He wheeled out into the hallway, scrolling down the long quartz floor and looking for the metal plate with the numbers '510'.
Shuichi stopped in front of a tall wooden door, halting his wheelchair and reaching for the doorknob. He turned it, the cogs inside clinking together as he pushed it forward into the door stopper.
Kokichi immediately perked his head up, a smile spreading across his face. "Saihara-Kun..! I thought you totes forgot a—about me!"
Shuichi awkwardly smiled, upturning his shoulders and scooting further in the room. He looked around, watching the almost identical white room burn at his eyes. A few purple posters were plastered against the walls and paint was splotched against the floor.
Kokichi's hair was crinkled upward, his wheelchair underneath him sitting at the end of the bed. He had a light-purple hospital scrub on with small drawings scribbled in sharpie all over his clothing. Black grippy-socks were wrapped around his feet, Kokichi's obnoxious smile greeting Shuichi each time he looked over at him. There was also a D.I.C.E. logo pin clipped to the left of his chest.
"W—why would I f—forget about y—you?" Shuichi asked, watching as Kokichi turned the corner in his wheelchair and a zebra blanket draped over his legs. "Why would you not?"
"Y—you're...fun to h—hang o—out with..." Shuichi scratched at his cheek before looking back up at Kokichi. "A—anyway, we should...h—head to the cafeteria..."
Kokichi just shrugged.
☽༓☾
Shuichi and Kokichi wheeled up to the double-doored cafeteria entrance, the two large slabs towering over them and overshadowing their bodies. Kokichi looked at the doors, his mouth slightly gaped at the sight. "I haven't seen a—anyone for so long."
The detective set his hand on the metal doorknob, turning toward Kokichi. "N—nobody...v—visited you..?"
"Nobody likes the idea of visiting somebody they hate."
Shuichi bit the inside of his cheek, knitting together his eyebrows firmly. "W—well, I d—don't hate you."
Silence slithered in the conversation, Shuichi quickly opening the door and holding it open for Kokichi. The loud bustling of chatter and the clinking of utensils were the first thing that echoed out, Shuichi waving his hand and gesturing for Kokichi to head in.
"...Thanks," Kokichi nodded, scrolling inside with Shuichi close behind him. He let the door fall back into place, the metal inside the door giving off a loud 'tinging' noise as it shut.
Shuichi looked around, the lights from the ceiling hanging into the air and springing the entire room into view. Bench-like tables surrounded the room, a variety of people sitting down and talking to each other while sharing their fair share of food. One of the fold-up tables leaned up against the wall, with juice-dispensers sat across the surface. Lemonade, gatorade, and water were the only options, with red plastic cups stacked on the side. Paper plates were wrapped around in some plastic, the table opposite of them layered with food inside pots and bowls that they could pick out.
Kokichi scrunched up his nose, picking out a plastic cup and filling it up to the brim with lemonade. Shuichi reached for one of the cups, only filling it up at the half point with water before recoiling his drink and taking a sip.
"D—do you w—want to sit t—together?" Shuichi asked, watching as Kokichi cracked his head up and chugged down the cup of lemonade. He nodded, the smallest bit of yellow-tinted water scribbling down his cheek and under his chin.
"Be right there, Saihara-Chan," Kokichi said, followed by a quick glance to the food tables. The detective nodded slowly, giving off the warmest smile he could and leaving out to the others.
He quickly slid himself beside Kaito, scooting into the table and hearing as the conversation continued to unfold.
"DAMMIT YOU SHIT-FACE—" Miu slammed her hands down onto the table, Kiibo next to her flinching at the sudden 'bang.' The UNO set of cards sprawling out onto the table and falling from the deck.
Shuichi brought his stare to Miu, the blonde inventor having her hair springing up and tangling against her sides like a rabid animal. Her white hospital scrubs following at her sides with her light-pink grippy-socks sticking to the ground. She had her nails painted black, with a golden locket hanging from her neck. Miu's goggles were missing from her head, along with a hospital wrist-band tied around her wrist.
Rantaro just shrugged, "What can I say, Iruma-San? You're just bad at card games."
Kaede sputtered a chuckle, Miu scowling up her face and scrunching together her nose. She balled-up her fists and slammed the table again. "I am NOT bad at cards!"
"I mean, you did lose," Ryoma snuggled in the conversation, putting down his deck on the table and scoffing the cigar placed in his mouth. Kaede joined, "Awww, come on Iruma-San..! You only get better with practice!"
"This is total BULLSHIT," Miu tried flipping the table, failing and giving up halfway through before flopping back into her seat.
Kirumi started putting away the cards, sighing lowly at the inventor. "Iruma-San, if you work your throat too much, the scabs'll open up and they'll start bleeding again. Please refrain from the screaming."
The maid scrubbed the table down with a wet cloth before gathering up the box of cards and the rest of her things, scrambling back beside the food table and sweeping up the floor.
"Do any of you know where Yumeno-Chan is..?" Tenko sighed, leaning her elbows on the table and resting her chin on the palms of her hands.
Maki nodded, running her fingers through his pigtail. "Yes, she said she wasn't coming to breakfast today."
Tenko gave an uneasy look, laying her head on the table. Shuichi realized Korekiyo wasn't at breakfast either.
"Nyahahaha—!" Angie smiled, "Atua says something is on her mind!"
Kokichi rolled to the right of Shuichi, holding a cup of iced-lemonade and listening into their conversation. Shuichi smiled, sharing a speedy waving before turning back to Tenko and the others.
"What would be on her mind though?" Tenko complained, her speech muffled by her arms.
Kaede placed her arm on Tenko's shoulder, "Don't worry about it Chabashira-San! We'll figure it out!"
Shuichi sighed, looking at Kiibo and raising his eyebrows.
Kiibo hair was springing up, like it had been in the game, except the antenna that was on his head was gone. He was looking down at his feet, his arms wrapped around his knees with his back facing toward Miu. His eyes were closed, the long black lines under his eyes gone, bags placing themselves under his eyes as a replacement. Gloves were put on his hands, his entire body covered up with clothing of some sort. A large dark-grey hoodie was wrapped around his torso, the hoodie part covering up his neck and his feet covered with black-grippy socks.
Gonta beamed, smiling and waving his hand, "Gonta is sure we will find Yumeno-San!"
The entomologist had his long dark green hair still, except for the fact it had been put into a neat braid, a white scrunchie tying off the end. Two strands were in front of his eyes, his teeth being jagged and sprouting randomly from his gums. A light-green scrub was put on him, the sewing being slightly messy, insinuating it had to be sewn just to be Gonta's size. Something new about Gonta was also a tattoo that was on his arm, trailing down from the front of his shoulder all the way down to his wrist. It was a snake, entangled in vines and fire while hissing and sticking its tongue out.
Kaito nodded, looking toward Maki, in which she started blushing and turned away toward the wall.
Shuichi looked toward the door, watching Kirumi sweep along the already-cleaned floor, looking around for anything she missed—almost like she was paranoid. Her hair was about half-an-inch longer than in the game, it being tied into a ponytail and bobby pins clipping back the loose strands. A black-lace bow was placed on the top of her head, adding to the hair tie. Kirumi had black gloves on, her dark-grey scrub tucked into both her gloves and socks. She looked different too, earrings lining the sides of her ears and collectively going further down her body. A septum piercing, lip piercing, tongue piercing, even a belly button one—the piercing bulging from her shirt.
"Neheehee!" Kokichi laughed, Shuichi turning over to the leader. "Of course the cum-slut is bad at UNO, who would've guessed?"
He followed it with rolling his eyes, looking down at his nails and sputtering a chuckle. Miu covered her face, "C—cum s—slut..?"
"Yes, do you need me to s—spell it out or something?" Kokichi said sarcastically, not waiting for an answer before he turned toward the inventor, "C-U-M-S-LU-T. Cum-slut!"
"Hey! I'm not dumb, I know how to spell, you twink!" Miu retorted, throwing up her hand in the air and pointing at Kokichi.
Maki turned around, a scowl planted onto her face while a dark shade enveloped her face. "Will you two just shut up already?"
"Nope!" Kokichi looked at Maki, the two of them sharing a prolonged staring contest, neither of them daring to blink. Maki had a frown digging at her lips, her eyebrows furrowing together while Kokichi just smiled.
Shuichi tugged at Kokichi shirt, making the leader snap out of the game and turn to Shuichi. He pouted, his lips curling up. "Come on, Saihara-Chan! I was busy playing a game with Maki-Roll!"
"Y—yeah...s—sure..." Shuichi sighed, watching as Kiibo poked at his food with the end of his fork, not being able to bring himself to eat it.
He really needed to talk with him.
☽༓☾
Shuichi waved at Kirumi, being the last one to leave the cafeteria. He offered to stay behind and help Kirumi clean up, so he ended up being late.
"B—bye, Tojo-Sama."
"Goodbye, Saihara-Kun."
The maid closed the doors behind Shuichi, the detective rolling down the tiled-hallway and dragging his cap further over his eyes. He had planned to visit Kiibo that day.
The robot looked almost depressed in the dining-area, his eyes drooping lowly and eye-bags practically consuming the space under his face. Whenever he and Shuichi would even slightly look at each other, both of them would recoil downward and avoid any eye-contact. He could tell how much guilt Kiibo kept, the robot failing to even fire back at Kokichi's remarks toward him.
Shuichi searched around for 512, his eyes scanning across the many metal plates with dug-in numbers and golden-lined edges. Once he found it, he sat in front of the door, knocking lightly and awaiting an answer.
"...Yes?"
The detective fiddled with his cap, looking at the handle of the door and taking in a breath. "K—kiibo? C—can I c—come in? I—it's Shuichi."
It was silent, before Shuichi heard mild shuffling from inside the room, the sound stopping momentarily as the door-handle twisted downward and opened.
Kiibo peaked through the frame, his eyes darting down to Shuichi's face and immediately back down to his feet. He bit his lip, his frail hands grabbing onto the wood and keeping the door open.
"W—what do you want...?" Kiibo said slowly. Shuichi cleared his throat, "I n—need to t—talk with y—you..."
Kiibo shifted to the side, pulling back the door and letting Shuichi come inside.
The room was small, piles of clothing trashed onto the floor, along with plastic water bottles and other trashy items. An idle I.V. drip was connected to the left side of Kiibo's bed, the inside being some sort of...food concoction. There was a kiddie tablet hanging out of the end table, along with a breathing canister trudged beside the I.V.
Shuichi looked at Kiibo once more, letting out a gasp and covering his mouth in surprise.
Kiibo's eyes were squinted shut, a drip of sweat sliding down his forehead as he shook nervously. His mouth was quivered shut, tears welling around his clenched eyes. Instead of being clattered with robotic devices and metal, he had actual skin, the pale color of his face running down across his entire body. He had a light-green hospital scrub on, white-grippy socks tied right below his ankles, showing off how skinny his legs had been.
"...I haven't told a—anyone that...my talent..," Kiibo took in a deep breath, his voice shaking. "W—was completely fake...I was never a robot.., I was just a b—boring talentless highschooler."
Kiibo trudged over to the bedside, collapsing inside the covers and looking up at the ceiling.
"A—and what's worse...is that I killed Shirogane. And you."
Shuichi shook his head, "B—but, she w—was an A.I., y—you didn't k—kill h—her..."
Kiibo shook his head, waving his hand and gesturing Shuichi to his side. He followed, rolling his wheelchair over to him and stopping in front of the white-haired boy. Kiibo leaned upward, cupping his hand up to Shuichi's ear and whispering quietly.
"I saw the doctors wheeling her dead body out of one of the locked rooms...they're hiding something from us. I—i...I don't know what but I don't think it's good."
"B—but don't worry about it..." Kiibo leaned back, "And I'm sorry..."
Shuichi raised an eyebrow, letting go of the wheels on his wheelchair and cupping them in his lap. "W—why a—are you s—sorry?"
"Well...I killed you. I can't even start to explain how sorry I am for that Saihara-Kun, I'm the reason you can't walk a—and...everything else.."
"I—..I d—don't blame a—anything that happened o—on y—you..."
Shuichi stuttered, his voice cluttering from all the chatting he had done prior. He pat down his thighs, noticing his water bottle had been emptied; and he drank it all. Kiibo looked up, biting his lip in an attempt to not cry.
"B—but why? I was the reason you and Shirogane...died," Kiibo leaned off his bed, his grippy-socks sticking to the floor.
Shuichi turned his head away, moving his cap down over his eyes. "You r—really weren't...this e—entire facility s—scripted o—out each death. It also i—isn't y—your fault because y—you weren't in c—control of y—your b—body at the t—time..."
Shuichi actually found out the hard way that his death wasn't intentional. He was the protagonist, he wasn't supposed to die at all. It was easy to figure out since nobody was told about it... Also, all the nurses would stare at him like he was some sort of deformed monster. He's a detective, a bad one, yes, but he could still connect the dots. Of course, Shuichi wouldn't tell Kiibo that...it would only add to his inner turmoil.
"..." Kiibo stayed silent, clutching his hands together and looking down at his knees.
Shuichi reached for his own cheek, scratching at it nervously, "I d—don't blame y—you...so y—you shouldn't blame y—yourself..."
"B—but..." Kiibo started to cry, tears staining his cheeks as they flooded down his face.
Shuichi shook his head, "N—no, it i—isn't your fault Kiibo."
The white-haired boy covered his face, sobbing into his hands, poorly attempting to cover his face. Shuichi wheeled closer to him, reaching up to Kiibo and giving him a hug. It was relatively hard, since Shuichi was planted into a wheelchair but he was able to somewhat manage.
Kiibo's crying only worsened the more time went on, Shuichi patting his back and assuring him everything was alright. He wasn't the best at comfort, but he tried.
Kokichi usually mentioned playing a game while someone's sad to, as he put it, 'turn their frown upside down.'
So, Shuichi tugged away from the hug, Kiibo covering his nose and watching Shuichi grab a pack of cards from the side of his thighs through his blurred vision. He showed the deck of card to the white-haired boy, smiling at him. "H—how about a g—game to cheer y—you up?"
Kiibo nodded, sniffling up his snot and waiting for Shuichi to finish shuffling the deck. Once he was done, he passed a couple cards to Kiibo and a couple cards for him, putting the deck down.
"Ouma-Kun t—taught me h—how to shuffle," The detective chuckled, placing down the rest of the deck onto the end table and explaining how to play to Kiibo. It took him some time to understand it, but after he did they started playing. Shuichi went easy on Kiibo, making sure he would win.
They played a few more rounds after that.