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Golden yearning,
Aching when I take cognizance of what we once were,
Knowing that, without a doubt, we’ll never quite reach again what we achieved, yet I can't believe
That it is all because I was too naive, and I wore my heart on my sleeve,
And now all that is left of us is a blur.
Now, if you had ever told Kokichi Oma that his last thoughts would have been for a stupid detective, not even 2 months ago, he would have probably laughed at your face.
And yet, here he was, lying on his back, feeling the cold touch of the metal from the hydraulic press against his back, despite Momota’s jacket draped over his shoulders.
“ Fuck. ” he thought.
Oma was never cut out for serious matters. Or rather, he was never cut out for dealing with them when people were around.When he was alone, he was capable of resolving any matters given, no matter how much energy or time he would have to devote to it. But as soon as he was surrounded by people, he just couldn’t help it, he had to put on a facade, even for the smallest things.He didn’t care that people were going to find him insufferable or that people thought of him as a liar. After all, that was the mask he was showing to people, and he didn’t expect them to even bother to try seeing through it.
“ And yet, Saihara has tried. Over and over, and you ruined it. And for what? ”
He gritted his teeth as he shook the thought away. No, no matter what, he had to go through with his plan, he was too far in to back off anyway. He had put too much of himself in it to ruin the whole thing now, and even if he did, there was nothing for him to return to, he had messed up everything.
Oma laid his head on its side and focused his gaze on Momota on the other side of the room. The latter was watching him, his brow furrowed, an anxious look all over his face.He needed him to stick to the plan even after he was gone, and he hoped that the other would, but in the end he knew that he couldn’t force the Ultimate Astronaut to do anything.
“ I’m not his sidekick afterall. ” he thought to himself sarcastically.
It wasn’t that he despised Momota. If he was being honest, he even liked him because he was fun to tease and that despite everything, he continued to believe in his classmates and in himself.
Oma found that amazing. But never expect him to say it to Momota’s face, he would never feed his hero-complex.It was all that bullshit about friendship and “the impossible is possible all you gotta do is make it so!”
sort of crap that the astronaut was blabbering out all the time that made Oma want to stay away from the taller man.
But it wasn’t about what Oma wanted or not anymore, was it? The Strike-9 poison was still running through his veins making his heart pounding harder in his chest as time passed, making it harder for him to breathe.Still on his back, the shorter man stopped looking at the other, closing his eyes instead, which earned him an alarmed gasp.
-I’m not dead … yet. Don’t panic, I'm just closing my eyes because it’s less exhausting.
He then heard a relieved sigh, and allowed himself to relax a bit before he had to give Momota the signal to switch the hydraulic press back on.His mind began to wander for a bit, and he didn’t know if it was the poison acting up or simply the exhaustion from not sleeping enough, scheming instead, finally catching up to him, but he decided that he could let himself have that final moment of peace, to relive his happy moments one last time before the metal panel crushed him to death.
Saihara glanced at Oma, who stood there with a mischievous grin, a knife clutched in his hand.
“Now it’s time for the final game!” Oma exclaimed, his voice dripping with excitement. With a flourish, he held up the knife. “It’s this… Ta-daaa!”
Saihara blinked, his eyes narrowing in confusion. “Whoa! A knife!? What are you—?”
“Nee-heehee… Don’t get so antsy. Don’t worry—it’s only for the game. You know what the knife game is, right?”
“The knife game?” Saihara echoed, his heart racing.
“Place your palm on the table with fingers apart,” Oma demonstrated, spreading his own fingers, the knife poised dangerously close to his hand. “Stab between your fingers.”
“What?! That’s so dangerous!” Saihara’s voice trembled, his instinct to pull back kicking in.
“This will be today’s challenge,” Oma said, his smile never wavering. “This is fitting for the final game, isn’t it?”
“But this is… really dangerous… What if we get hurt?” Saihara’s voice cracked, his worry evident.
“Hm, what are you talking about?” Oma’s expression turned serious, his eyes locked on Saihara. “Saihara-chan, if you lose… you’ll be beyond injured, y’know? You’ll die.”
Saihara froze, his mind struggling to comprehend the weight of Oma’s words. But before he could respond, Oma continued, spreading his fingers on the table. “I’ll make the first move, okay?” His tone was unnervingly calm, his grip tightening on the knife. “I’m ready!”
Tap, tap, tap, tap … and suddenly, Oma pressed the knife into his hand, a sharp wince escaping his lips. Blood oozed from the cut, flowing slowly down his palm.
“—Oma-kun!?” Saihara leapt to his feet, his hands shaking as he grabbed Oma’s wrist. “You don’t have to keep going, stop! Just stay still, I’ll get it…”
In a daze, Saihara rushed off to retrieve an aid kit, fumbling clumsily as he tended to Oma’s wound.
“Nee-heehee…” Oma’s laughter echoed softly, his eyes gleaming with amusement despite the pain. It was as if he found some bizarre satisfaction in Saihara's frantic worry.
“Okay, I think that’s good. What do you think?” Saihara asked, his hands still trembling as he looked at the patch of bandage on Oma’s hand.
“Yeah. It wasn’t a deep cut, so that’ll do. Thanks for treating my injury, Saihara-chan. But… Aw maaan, I lost! Congrats, Saihara-chan! You win!” Oma grinned, his playful nature undeterred.
“But I didn’t do it yet… I’m still the winner?” Saihara frowned, his confusion deepening.
“Well, I messed up. So yeah. You win by default. Plus, I already fulfilled my objective.”
“Objective…?” Saihara echoed, his mind spinning.
“To kill you, Saihara-chan!”
Saihara stared at him, his mouth opening but no sound emerging. “...But I’m alive.”
“I made your heart die with worry, didn’t I?” Oma leaned forward slightly, his grin widening.
“...What?”
“After I said I’d kill you, I was on your mind the whole time, right? You thought about whether or not I was serious or why I would say something so confusing… Ha, even now! You’re concerned about me from the bottom of your heart! Nee-heehee… Now, you’ll never ever forget me for the rest of your life. I stole your heart, so now I’m satisfied! I don’t need to steal your life anymore!”
Saihara blinked, his mind struggling to grasp Oma’s twisted logic. “What does that even mean!? Why did you say that?”
“Because that was a lie,” Oma said, his voice almost soothing now. “I never wanted your life to begin with. And like I told you from the very beginning, I’m a liar!”
Sihara fell silent, the weight of Oma’s words settling on him. Despite not understanding him at all, it felt as if Oma had somehow reached out and left a mark on his soul—a memory he couldn’t forget.
Oma smiled fondly at the memory, remembering how sweet the detective had been to him that day, and any other day if he was honest. Even if he tried to be as annoying as possible, Saihara stayed polite with him, and Oma saw a potential ally in the blue-haired man.Well, it was too bad that once Oma builded up the courage to ask Saihara to be his partner in the Neo-World program, the latter just left him. Maybe the word “trustworthy” was an overstatement after all. But the leader knew he only told himself that to feel better about the whole situation. Saihara wasn’t at fault, and he knew it.He villainized himself on purpose and even if he hadn't wanted to, he was still (at least partly, he had to admit that) responsible for Miu’s and even more for Gonta’s death.His train of thoughts was cut short by the sound of Momota coughing loudly and painfully in his sleeve. Looked like he didn’t have much time left either. Well, Oma could only hope that it would be enough time to put an end to this killing game.He didn’t want to waste any more of the precious and limited time they had, so he waited for Momota’s coughing fit to die down before intercepting his gaze, signaling him it was time to switch the engine back on. The taller man nodded at Oma, turning to the control panel and to the camera, setting them on at the same moment. He gave Oma one last look before the press took him out of his sightAt this precise moment, Momota saw in Oma’s eyes that he really didn’t want to die, catching a glimpse of the silent tears rolling down his eyes, contrasted by a proud smile
plastered on his pale lips. He looked away, because the emotions, but also the disgust of the idea of his classmate transforming into a corpse in front of him, were too much for him to handle.He clenched his teeth and his fists, hoping the engine will stop before crushing the other man, or that it is simply a bad dream but-THUMP.He shot his eyes back at the hydraulic press, and the tears now rolled down on his own cheeks, because it was all over. He stopped the recording and got into the Exisal.Thirty seconds ago, just before Oma was crushed, another memorie crept up from his mind, one he wished hadn't returned, because it made his proud smile fade away, replaced by
frown and pursed lips.“ You’re alone Oma, and you’ll always be. ”And suddenly it was too late, his consciousness gave away, leaving nothing but a hazy blur hovering all over him, the memory feeling distant and surreal.And thus, before he could even think about it, he was gone. Was it the poison that got the best of him? Or perhaps the said poison numbed him so much he didn’t even feel the metal crushing his body.Oh, well, it wasn’t like it mattered anyway, Monokuma’s surveillance cameras were still out, so they will never know, and neither will he.In the end, nobody will have known how he really died, nor did anyone really know how he lived.