Seriously, bless this robot. Kokichi hoped he could meet the famed Professor Idabashi some day, and express his appreciation for the pure, wholesome machine he’d created.
He’d even seriously bowed down. What a great day~!
“Welllllll, since you apologized so sweetly, I’ll forgive you,” Kokichi said with great magnanimity. “I know I’m not the easiest person to believe, but hopefully now you know I’m not always lying~!”
And then, to butter Kiiboy up for his finishing move, he went on reassuringly, “You probably didn’t see it fall. If you bumped your hip against the desk, or happened to brush your sleeve against the card… or any number of other ways, it could have fallen while you weren’t looking, and then you wouldn’t remember it happening, right?”
Between drawing on each other’s faces, the playful texting, and now the (fabricated) misunderstanding that showed Kiiboy his worst assumptions about Kokichi weren’t always true… maybe the robot would actually start to like him, and want to hang out sometimes.
Kokichi loved messing with his classmates, but he’d wanted to make friends with at least one of them, so there would be one person at Hope’s Peak who didn’t look at him with dislike, suspicion, or distrust. Mostly Kokichi enjoyed the shenanigans that ensued, but since DICE couldn’t be here, he needed at least one person to like him; constant dislike stabbing into him was a heavy emotional burden to bear.
Kokichi wasn’t sure if the robot counted as a “person,” but given the laws of robotics, Kiiboy was the easiest entity for Kokichi to relax around, so he would have to do. Plus, Kokichi adored him, so it was win-win, really.
That was true… he definitely was not the easiest person to believe. It was hard to fathom, but… he wasn’t lying about this. No, he couldn’t have been. After all, the ID was right behind the desk… as if it had fallen—just like he said. It was unbelievable and yet completely believable at the same time. A perfectly reasonable explanation. The robot got back up onto his feet sluggishly—averting the Supreme Leader’s eye contact.
“I suppose that’s true…” But still, to forget something so important. He would have thought seeing the desk would jog his memory—if he had bumped into it like Ouma suggested or brushed his sleeve against the card. Even a robot could forget little things like that, though... yes. Still—Ouma wasn’t making fun of him for losing such a detail and wasn’t complaining about having to search the room and even get dusty in the process. That was… surprising in a nice way.
He did appreciate it. If this weren’t a prank—which it appeared not to be, as such a thought couldn’t be logical at this point—and given the fact that Ouma was actually… refraining from robophobic remarks ( always a plus in Kiibo’s book ), the robot smiled. Now that he had found his ID, he would need to mark sure not to lose it again so foolishly—keeping it on him, he walked outside of the room. Grabbing his phone, he texted the only other contact besides Miu he held.
[TEXT]: Thank you, Ouma-kun. I am grateful for your assistance.
[TEXT]: For causing the trouble, I want to do something for you.
Why was he texting this? Well, he was still excited about this whole ‘texting’ and ‘contact’ business. Best not let it go to waste, after all. And… it was a bit odd—thanking the prankster face-to-face. He wanted to thank him, just… in a less conventional way. It was efficient, and it should work.
