Work Text
“Could you imagine what that must feel like?” Saihara breathed, keeping his voice low so as not to speak over the voices on the screen as he leaned forward, nearly falling from the couch in his thirst to drink in every detail unfolding on the screen before them. “Your throat closing up… struggling to catch your very last breath as- Oh shit- Did you see that? They think it’s a poisoning! Can you even believe… The group doesn’t even have anyone with medical talent this season… When was the last time that happened?”He turned to Ouma then, seated beside him, posing what had of course been meant as a genuine question. While his best friend wasn’t quite as invested in the show as Saihara was, Ouma still had an incredible memory.“Season forty-nine… the SHSL Anesthesiologist….” Ouma replied, uncertain quaver apparent in his voice, even with the TV playing in the background. Saihara wished that he could be more certain in himself. Extensive knowledge of Danganronpa was something commendable! Anyone would agree. “She barricaded herself in the broom closet during the first episode, but they didn’t find her until just before the last trial… she died of dehydration, didn’t she?”“Exactly!” Saihara praised as the thrill of the current episode stole him back in, “But they thought that she fell into the trash compactor, right? …Just like Hasegawa here! They think she’s been poisoned by Sasayama, but she’s really going into anaphylactic shock!” He jammed a thumbnail between his teeth. “Someone must have hidden peanuts in the food-“
Danganronpa!
Danganronpa!
At that moment, an unnaturally electronic voice began to chime from Saihara’s pocket.“Eleven o’clock…” Ouma muttered, eyes wide, probing Saihara’s face as if it contained the answer to the identity of V2’s mastermind.“C-can I?” Saihara breathed as he leaned across the couch, not quite bridging their gap as he scrabbled for the remote, turning to volume down so much that it may well have been muted. Each time he asked the same question as if it were their first, despite their agreement having gone on for some weeks now.Ouma nodded, solemnly, as if his mind were made up to stick his hand straight into the trash incinerator behind the school.Saihara would allow precious few things to interrupt his experiencing of Danganronpa, and all of them graced the lithe body of Ouma Kokichi.While his heart already fluttered from the undeniable thrill of lying witness to real-time murder- crawling its way up into his throat, a small mammal in search of the Spring-time sun- as Ouma’s eyes fluttered shut, his lips parting in acceptance of what was to befall them, it now felt as if it were about to abandon his body entirely, crossing the dwindling distance between warm bodies all of its own accord.As he placed his hands on the smaller boy’s shoulders, grip loser now than it had been the first few times, although the sweat of his palms still dampened the fabric of his shirt, a thought crossed Saihara’s mind, insistently enough to be heard over the pounding in his ears- Would Ouma still be alright with this, if it weren’t in preparation for the their own time on the show? If they were whole and normal, and not caricatures of people, about to be banished back into the world of fiction where they belonged?Had he only ever been lying about enjoying these heated sessions?Jittering hands fell upon his lower back, Ouma’s slender fingertips an overloaded circuit, sparking in bursts as Saihara took his lips.“They always have a couple hook up,” Saihara had explained late one night, during the commercial break of an episode that would be sure to cause the ratings to soars. “Ever since that murder-suicide in season forty-seven… We… we should be ready… practice…”The two had soon found themselves falling into a routine at the same time each Saturday night, one that Saihara would always very much be looking forward to.“Ouma-kun,” Saihara began, pausing to wipe the lingering saliva from Ouma’s chin with his sleeve, “You are okay with this… aren’t you? You aren’t…doing this because you’re afraid of me or anything, right?”He would never do anything to harm his dearest friend- unless it happedn to be a part of the show, of course. He would have to kill someone… but that wouldn’t be for a few months yet.Ouma shook his head. “Of course not!” he pipped through swollen lips.Whichever question the simple phrase had been meant in answer to, the only pressing Saihara managed was that of Ouma’s willing body deeper against the throw pillows.