CW: mentions of cannibalism, manipulation and despair toward a young child (Kokichi is three here)
It had been two hours. Kokichi stared at the bowl in front of him—a creamy white soup, with a handful of meatballs floating in it. It was probably cold by now. He poked a meatball with his spoon, his stomach lurching as it bobbed. He swallowed thickly, glancing across the kitchen at the grownup stirring a pot at the stove.
At the severed arm tossed on a cutting board on the counter beside him.
"I don' wan' it," he tried again.
"Aw, that's enough'a that, boy!" Teru-onii-chan turned from the soup to pointedly brandish his spoon at the boy. "There's no way you ain't hungry. You're still growin', ya know? And after I even ground it up nice 'n' fine so ya couldn't tell the difference. The others don't get half as much kindness outta me!"
"B-but—"
"Not like you can taste it, anyhow. You wouldn't know human from pork from beef," he huffed. "Such a waste of my Talents, I swear."
And yet Teru-onii-chan always did seem to go above and beyond for Kokichi's meals specifically. So much effort, so much seasoning, all for the most boring textures. The small boy always wondered why that was. This happened every time. He didn't want it. He never wanted it. It was bland and boring and always had meat. He whimpered, looking back down at his soup. He wondered who it was, floating around inside it. If it was a mommy or a daddy, or...
Maybe a little kid just like him.
The image of a person roasting over a fire wasn't nearly as funny in real life as cartoons always made it out to be.
"I swear, Kokichi, if ya don't eat somethin' soon, you're gonna get sick," Teru-onii-chan tutted. "I'll hafta get your sister—"
Kokichi's blood turned to ice.
"N-no!" he cried, frantic tears springing to his eyes. "Not Nee-nee! Not the tube!"
It went down his nose and felt cold and weird when Nee-nee fed the slurry into it. He swore he could feel it as he hiccuped out panicked little breaths. It felt like he was choking on it.
Teru-onii-chan's expression softened, and he set his spoon aside to approach Kokichi at the table and give him a little pat on the head.
"Ya need ta eat, sugar," he insisted. "You know your Nee-nee only does it 'cause she cares. She'd be awful sad ta know you ain't eatin' again. It'd fill her with so much Despair..."
That word again. Despair. Nee-nee and her friends talked about it a lot, ever since the bad things started and they brought him down here. Kokichi didn't really understand what it meant. They were always so mean to each other on purpose. It almost sounded like Teru-onii-chan wanted him to refuse just to make his Nee-nee sad.
He looked down at the soup again, sloppily wiping his nose on his sleeve. The meat stood out clearly in the white broth, bobbing there like the most normal thing in the world. Teru-onii-chan could give him any other meat, and it'd taste the same, feel the same, may as well be the same. It didn't matter if he couldn't taste it. It didn't matter if he couldn't tell. It made his stomach churn just knowing what it was.
But... Kokichi didn't want to make his Nee-nee sad...
The beginning of a collection of vignettes where Kokichi is Mikan’s baby brother, and was kept and raised by the Remnants of Despair during the Tragedy.
When the world finally ended and everything began to crumble, little Kokichi didn’t think much of it.
Barely three years old, he didn’t understand. How could he? He didn’t question his Nee-nee when she conveniently appeared and scooped him up from the fire and ash of their house. Didn’t wonder when she parted the horrors like the Red Sea as she brought him back to where she went to school, passing countless bodies along the way. Didn’t worry as he was brought down into the depths of her and her classmates’ “secret base.”
She said she was going to keep him safe, after all. Who was he to question his Nee-nee?
CW: impersonation, manipulation and despair of a young child
The first time, they’d fooled him.
The second time, too, and maybe the third and fourth and fifth and sixth… Kokichi had honestly lost count. He hadn’t known any better. He was so little the first few times, and didn’t understand at all.
“Kokichi?”
Ignorant to the impermanence.
“C’mon, Koko, where’d you go?”
But Kokichi was four and a half now.
“Stop hiding from Papa.”
His Papa was gone, and this was an imposter.
Even now, it startled him every time. He would round a corner in the hall, and there he would be with open arms, and Kokichi would forget for half a second that Papa was never coming back. Everything about them was eerily similar. The eyes, the voice, the warmth. Or maybe it was just that the memories had faded as he’d grown.
You don’t remember much of anything when you’re just a baby, do you?
Kokichi covered his mouth to muffle his breathing as the heavy thunk of footsteps trailed by the cupboard. He’d gotten real good at hide and seek, squeezing himself between towering cans of hoarded food. One had a picture of sliced beef on the side, and the idea of dinnertime made him gag.
That’s when they’d shown up. He was hiding from dinner again.
“Don’t you miss me?”
Kokichi’s chest tightened.
He missed Papa. Of course he missed Papa! Papa and Mama both. He wanted them back more than anything in the world.
Maybe if they were here, Nee-nee would cry less. They were grownups! They could protect her better than he could, from her mean friends who pushed her around so much. Why did they do that? Kokichi still didn’t understand. Maybe they needed a grownup to tell them that it was wrong to be mean to your friends.
Maybe then they would be mean to him less, too.
“I miss you, Koko,” Papa—the not-Papa—said somberly. “Don’t you want a hug from your Papa?”
He wanted his Papa, he wanted his Papa so badly. Carefully, Kokichi pushed the cupboard door open just a crack to peek outside. There he was, bigger and rounder than Kokichi remembered, but still so undeniably Papa despite everything Kokichi knew telling him that it was not Papa. He gazed about the room, looking under tables and behind boxes as if they were only playing a game together. It was just a game to him.
Did that make it less scary?
“If you come out, Papa will give you a big hug and make it all better, alright? Then you and me and your Nee-nee can all have dinner together as a family. Wouldn’t that be nice?”
That would be nice. It would be so, so nice. Kokichi sniffled, rubbing at his eyes. It wasn’t Papa, though. It wasn’t real. It was a lie. It wasn’t Papa. Papa was gone and he was never coming back. Kokichi knew this. It was a lie and he would wake up tomorrow and Papa would be gone again without a trace because it never was Papa. Not this time, not any time Papa had come since Nee-nee brought Kokichi here.
“And then you can have your bath and Papa can help you get ready for bed. I’ll tell you a bedtime story, any story you’d like, and I’ll be right there until you fall asleep. How does that sound, Kokichi?”
He would be alone again and he would cry and Nee-nee would pet his hair so gently all while cruelly tell him not to be so silly to think Papa was coming back, just to see him cry more. It was a lie. A lie! And yet…
The cupboard door banged open as Kokichi clamored out, clumsily knocking cans over to spill and roll across the floor as he ran with teary eyes into his Papa’s arms.
It was common knowledge at this point that Kokichi had tea with a snack promptly at 3 every afternoon.
"Tea and shortbread cookies, as you requested, Ouma-kun. I do hope you enjoy it."
And it was common knowledge at this point that Toujou was the one who served it.
The tray was set down on the table in front of Kokichi, elegant as always, and he grinned up at her in thanks. However, today he hesitated as he reached for the cup, tilting his head curiously at the dark liquid inside.
"This isn't jasmine," he observed, a question in his tone.
It was common knowledge, at least to Toujou, that Kokichi preferred jasmine tea.
"My apologies." Toujou bowed her head. "It would appear that the kitchen has run out of jasmine tea. I took it upon myself to substitute an earl grey instead."
"Were there no other green teas?" Kokichi lifted the cup, examining it closer.
It was a dark amber color, which was pretty, he supposed, but he preferred the lighter greens and yellows of green teas. He wafted it under his nose as if to smell the aroma, but really it was little more than an opportunity to hear an explanation and feel the steam tickle his nose. It's not like he could actually smell it, but Toujou didn't know that.
"I am afraid not. However," Toujou continued as she placed down a smaller tray with a creamer and sugar bowl beside the first, "if you are not familiar with black teas, it is common to try them with sugar and cream. Knowing your affinity for sweets, I should hope that this would be to your liking."
This was a mistake. It was common knowledge, at least to Toujou, that Kokichi didn't put anything in his tea. It wouldn't make a difference to him either way, but Kokichi couldn't find a good lie as to why her conclusion would be faulty. He smiled politely and reached for the tray.
If not for the dark color and creamer, Kokichi might have noticed the sugar didn't quite seem to dissolve in the tea.
If not for his lie, he might've tasted that the tea hadn't turned any sweeter.
Such as it was, Kokichi didn't realize the fatal error until the powdered glass was already past his throat.
Overprotective-|-Hidden Injury-|-Amputation-|- “I can’t do this”
Loopyv3rse: To Be Raised By Despair—Nagito's arm
Loopy is open for asks.
CW: Graphic depictions of gore, manipulation and despair toward a young child (Kokichi is four here)
The room stank so heavily of blood and viscera that even he could smell it—a pungent stench that coated his nose and mouth like when he got a nosebleed and had to let Nee-nee hold it until it stopped. Kokichi usually stayed clear of Teru-nii's butcher room. The screams gave him nightmares, and he wasn't exactly eager to be Teru-nii's "useless taste tester". However, the sound that echoed down the halls today were not the screams of soon-to-be food.
It was laughter.
And not just any laughter...
Kokichi peered around the door frame to see what business he had with Teru-nii's meat stores. His back was to the door, much to his relief, and he was hunched over a gory mass on the butcher table. Barely-controlled fits of giggles and stifled chuckles spilled out between panting, rasping breaths as he picked through the various chunks and viscera like it was some kind of forbidden cookie jar.
Kokichi thought he'd be used to the sight by now, but the view tied his tummy in knots. He wondered if he ever would be used to it. Nagi-nii—Servant, the others insisted—didn't seem to care in the slightest. Nor did any of the others. Would it be better if he didn't, either?
Maybe he should try to be brave.
Maybe Nagi-nii would teach him if he asked nicely. That's what servants did, right? What you asked of them?
"Ah! Yes, this is perfect, just perfect! A piece of Her, and in such wonderful condition! How Lucky!"
Manic cackling filled the room as he lifted something out of the gore that Kokichi couldn't quite see from where he was. Quietly, he slipped through the doorway, putting his sleeve over his nose and mouth so he wouldn't have to breathe the heavy stench of blood.
"Na—S-Servant?" he asked sheepishly. Servant started, then spun on his heel to face the interloper, revealing a delicate severed arm in his hands and a manic grin to match. Kokichi stumbled back in surprise, only to slip on a stray, wet wad of something and fall to the ground.
"Ah, Kokichi, hello!" he greeted, voice breathy from his own excitement. "Is there something I can assist you with? Were you looking for Tsumiki-sama?"
His smile softened, not wanting to scare the poor boy any more than he already had, but it wasn't much better when he loomed over Kokichi with blood staining his hands and spattered across his shirt and face. Kokichi swallowed down the twisty feeling in his tummy.
Be brave! Nagi-nii was going to help. That was his job as Servant, right?
"U-um..." Kokichi scrambled back to his feet. Blood on the floor stained his hands, and he anxiously smeared it off on his shirt. He looked at the arm warily. It was a pretty one. Tiny and soft and pale, with carefully painted red nails, like the dolls Kokichi remembered his family used to put on display for Hina Matsuri. "Wha's that for...?"
Servant's barely-contained smile twitched.
"Oh, this? It's just a little personal project I'm working on." He waved it off with a dismissive chuckle, but his grip on that dainty wrist was like a vice. "You don't have to worry about such things at your age. I only ask that you keep what you saw between us, alright?"
"Why?" And with that question something changed, like the whole world had gone askew. Servant's smile shifted, and suddenly it didn't look serene so much as a poor mockery put on to assuage Kokichi's fears. That had been a bad question.
But it was too late to take it back now.
"You're curious, aren't you? To be expected of the little brother of an Ultimate!" he gushed, swinging the arm around with his sweeping gestures. Blood sprayed from the severed end, spattering across the floor, the wall, and narrowly missing Kokichi as he ducked with a horrified squeak. "It's such a shame, the Despair one so young and promising has to go through! But I'm sure, surely a wonderful, shining Hope might be born from that hardship! I can feel it, you know! The Hope inside you, just waiting to blossom. I simply can't wait to see the wonderful Talent that will come out the other end of such a ruinous upbringing, surrounded by such wonderful Talents and yet steeped in such Despair to overcome!"
Kokichi cowered on his knees with his hands over his head as Servant continued to swing the arm around and spray blood everywhere without the slightest care. His words were entirely lost on him, as they always were. Hope? Despair? That word, Nee-nee and her friends used it so much, but Servant was by far the one who used it the most. Kokichi couldn't help but think it must be important.
That Nagi-nii was trying to tell him something important, if only Kokichi could understand.
Overcoming Despair led to Hope, right? That's what he always said. Kokichi wanted to be braver, so that things wouldn't be so scary all the time anymore. That was Hope, right? So to get the Hope—to get braver, then...
"U-um... What if..." Servant's sermon stuttered to a halt as Kokichi spoke up shyly from his position crouched on the ground. Tentatively, he peeked up from under his hands. "What if... I helped Servant-nii...?"
Servant looked down at Kokichi in surprise, and then his face broke into the widest, most eerie grin. "Oh, I would be honored! How proactive of you, Kokichi!"
No. Bad. Bad bad bad. Kokichi changed his mind. He didn't want to be brave anymore. He didn't—
The arm was shoved into Kokichi's hands before he could protest or run. He fumbled with the appendage, nearly dropping it. While it might have looked like a doll, it felt like anything but—somehow both soft and firm, cold and clammy. It was icky, icky, and Kokichi's tummy twisted and turned as he held it at arms' length in shaking hands.
He'd never complain to Teru-nii about the ground meat again. Never ever never.
"Bring it over here," Servant ushered him towards the butcher table. "Perfect, stay right there and watch, alright? That's a good boy! You'll grow so much from this, I just know it!"
He'll grow? Really? Tears pricked Kokichi's eyes and he whimpered, swallowing down the fearful lump in his throat. He kept his mouth shut. Best not to risk setting Servant off even more. It was already too much, but if he could at least grow like Nagi-nii wanted him too...
Maybe it'd be worth something.
And so he stood by quietly and watched as Nagi-nii put his own forearm down on the table and raised a cleaver over it.
Hello there! There are so many Kokichis that I got confused about which one to ask this question to. So, sorry about that!
Here is the same question(s) that I asked a different account:
Hello, Kokichi, Koko, Kichi, Loopy, Cookie, Joker, and any other iterations of the Ultimate Supreme Leader there are!
I have a question for you all. Do you each own your own version of D.I.C.E? Or are you all a part of the same organisation? If it is the latter, then do you all share equal ownership, or is there someone in charge?
I'd also like to know if you are all Ultimate Supreme Leaders or if each of your talent titles (or the talents in general) have variations between them.
Furthermore, are there any other differences between each of you, whether that be your behaviour, your emotions, your identities, any physical differences, or even your birthdays? Or are you identical copies to one another with the exception of your names?
Apologies for the mixup!
- Saber
Hello, hello, hello! No worries! We thought it was VERY funny, honest! You're right, there ARE a lot of us, and the doppelganger over there definitely doesn't make it any easier! As for your questions, though...
Me, oh my, though, where do we begin? Since there are so many of us, it's hard for all of us to clamor over each other to answer one ask. Soooooo for simplicity's sake I, Kichi, the one who's been around the longest (Six-ish years now! Crazy!) and arguably the mod's FAVORITE (or maybe that's a lie!) will give you a quick SparkNotes rundown of the Oumas we have.
Of course, I reserve the right to claim any and all of this MAY be a lie. You'll have to confirm with the others!
Let's get started, shall we? (This is a bit of a whopper, so under a cut it goes!)
Are you identical copies to one another with the exception of your names?
So, first and foremost a big thing with us is that we're not really copies of each other so much as alternate version from different universes. We're all Ouma Kokichi, and we've taken to our various nicknames to better differentiate between us!
That being said, there are a lot of commonalities between us:
Our overall beliefs (anti-harassment, anti-punitive justice, the subjectivity of truth, etc.)
Our playful demeanor (also some of us play rougher than others, I'll get to that)
Our lack of a sense of taste (a lie)
Our Talent as Ultimate Supreme Leader (possibly another lie, you'll have to ask the others because they're liars, unlike me, who only ever tells the truth!)
The Tragedy really happened and it wasn't a Real Fiction universe (at least, for most of us to our knowledge; not everyone has the memories to confirm or could be lying)
No, the big differences mostly fall under our experiences, namely the events that occurred in our respective universes. However, those differences in experiences do have an effect on the... I guess the flavor of Ouma we exude? Subtle variations, which makes sense considering everyone's unique experiences shape them into the person they are!
That being said, there are two major camps in general divergence that help sort things out a little between us: whether or not our killing game was a simulation, or more specifically, time loops.
Oumas whose killing game is a simulation and/or time loop and death is temporary:
Me (Kichi (remembers all of my loops (lie), 162+ loops so far (lie))
Loopy (does not remember his loops, 82+ loops so far)
Joker (remembers his loops, 467+ loops so far)
Petty (remembers most of his loops, ~93+ loops so far that he knows of)
Oumas whos killing game is not a simulation and death is permanent:
Me (Kichi (Dying (lie)))
Cookie (Dead)
Koko (Dead)
Bindle (Alive (for now))
Cusp (Dead)
Ender (Alive (barely))
Gemini (Dead)
Moonpie (Alive (I think (could be a lie)))
Do you each own your own version of D.I.C.E? Or are you all a part of the same organization?
Not all of us have a DICE, no! At least, it depends on the universe!
Oumas who are known to have had DICEs in their home universe:
Cookie (had a "canon" DICE as seen in his motive video)
Bindle (his DICE are a psychosis/headmate thing, he hasn't told us which it is just that they're there and they talk to him a lot)
Cusp (had a "canon" DICE similar to Cookie, PLUS his Amami-chan, who was also a member)
Gemini (his DICE was the entire V3 cast, actually! He's talked about this in one of his essays)
Oumas who are known to not have a DICE in their home universe:
Me (Kichi (lie))
Everyone else has not made mention of ever having a DICE where they came from. Well, except Joker, but Joker's story about his DICE parrots Cookie's so closely that it's hard to tell if he's lying or not.
If it is the latter, then do you all share equal ownership, or is there someone in charge?
HERE, though, it gets a little more interesting! Among the many killing game folk who live here (because we have MORE than just Oumas, y'know!) Cookie has actually gone out of his way to start a new faction of DICE after death.
Umami-chan (an Amami) and I are members of that new faction, among some others who do not use this blog! Cookie's the de facto leader, but whenever he needs a break due to post-death medical issues or whatever, I step up in his place. I'm the Ultimate Substitute Supreme Leader you might say!
Gemini is also working on getting his own DICE back from the grave! So far, he's managed to get back his Akamatsu (Lyra) and Hoshi (Ursa), as well as a couple of others (Momota and Amami) who, again, aren't on this blog.
Aside from that, us Oumas still have a tendency to cluster together in groups because as Supreme Leaders, camaraderie is what we do best! The other loopers (Loopy, Petty, and Joker) have formed a little gaggle and they try to check in with each other. Or at least, Loopy does. He's a sweetheart and worries about the other two a lot.
Furthermore, are there any other differences between each of you?
Like I said before, a lot of our differences are rooted in our experiences, and most are pretty subtle! Just for fun, though, here are some of the major differences for a few of us:
I'm pretty sure in my universe, Saihara is the mastermind. Like, 76.326% sure! (Kichi (lie))
I (Kichi) also prior to the killing game was a subject in some weird underground facility, where I grew up as far back as I can remember and everything I knew about the world came purely from TV and whether or not the things I got to ask the doctors to bring me once a week was actually possible to get and confirm they were real, but don't worry about it that's a lie! Makes a fun crazy story, though, right?
Cookie's plan to fool Monokuma with the hydraulic press actually worked and ended their killing game early! We found all this out from his Momota (Plum), who unfortunately still died from his illness after the fact. Bummer.
Loopy is the younger brother of Tsumiki Mikan, and was raised by the Remnants of Despair through the Tragedy until the Future Foundation apprehended them and put him in foster care with a shiny new family name.
Bindle found his Amami as he was dying in the library, and plans to throw the trial and take Akamatsu's place as Blackened after tipping everyone off about the potential canon he's learned about here so he can just spend his afterlife here with his Amami.
Petty had to eat his Amami when they got trapped starving in a cave! (lie)
Ender was the one who took the shot put ball to the head in his universe. Thankfully he's not dead, as the culprit had a change of heart afterward just quickly enough to get him help, but he's in critical condition in his home universe now with only Momota's astronaut emergency first aid to help him. He's not usually, like. Conscious. Obviously.
As stated before, Gemini's DICE was the entire V3 cast. They were a counter-organization to the Future Foundation, which is a lot more corrupt in his universe. They had a lot of projects going on to assist with Tragedy reconstruction in places the FF willfully turned a blind eye to, and were planning to overthrow them entirely. According to Gem, the FF themselves were the ones that caught them and put them in their killing game.
Aaaaand that's about the most pressing bits about it! We all have our own little blurbs in the Directory if there's anyone in particular you're more interested in, with our individual tags and tags for flash fiction series our dearest mods (mostly Pick with his AitCM Challenge, let's be real here) have been working on to put our stories in writing!
If you're curious on our thoughts about our various experiences from our own perspective, though, you can pop more questions in our inbox or take a look at our X on Y Essay tag, where some of us go on little tangents about inane things!
Thanks so much for the ask! It was fun getting to answer something serious for a change! We hope to hear from you again!
Falling from a high place-|-Hunted-|-Fever-|- “I’m scared” (Bonus: Whumper Turned Caretaker)
Loopyv3rse: To Be Raised By Despair—Mikan caring for him when sick
Loopy is open for asks.
CW: medical abuse, manipulation and despair of a young child
Everything was hot and cold at the same time. The room was dark, but somehow it still managed to spin and Kokichi groaned and tossed in bed. His stomach twisted and his pajamas were sticky, his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. Tears streaked flushed, feverish cheeks as he turned again, desperate to find a comfortable position. His wrist itched, but he couldn't scratch it. He got in trouble the last time he tried.
The door clicked open, letting in a stream of light from the hall.
"Kokichi?" came the soft, shy voice. Kokichi immediately stilled as his heart stuttered in his chest.
It was Nee-nee.
She wheeled a small cart into the room, clicking on a soft lamp on the nightstand to illuminate the room. Kokichi whined pathetically as she peered down at him with an unknowable something in her eyes. He wasn't sure why, but something was different about his Nee-nee whenever Kokichi was sick. Or rather, whenever she was taking care of him.
Something like a cat peering down at a helpless mouse.
She smiled sweetly, brushing Kokichi's damp bangs from his face. "Oh me, oh my, has that pesky fever still not broken?"
"It's sticky, Nee-nee," he croaked, tears pricking his eyes. "Make it stop..."
He couldn't tell if her smile changed or if it was the fever playing tricks on him.
"Don't worry, dearest," she tutted, turning to fiddle with whatever was on her little cart. "I'm sure some fluids will help."
Kokichi's stomach rolled at the sight of the IV bag. No, no, he didn't like the fluids! Anything but that, he'd even take Teru-nii's soup at this point. He didn't like how the cloudy contents of that bag made him feel.
She seemed unfazed however, hanging the bag up on the stand affixed to her baby brother's bed as he cowered under the covers.
"Kokichi, I need to attach this—" She tried to peek under the blankets to get to the IV port taped to Kokichi's wrist, but he snatched it away, hugging it to his chest.
"Don' wanna, Nee-nee! Feels icky!"
Her momentarily surprised expression melded into another smile. A different one. Kokichi shivered.
That was the bad smile.
"Silly boy," she cooed with a saccharine sigh. "The fluids are what will help you not feel icky anymore!"
For the first time in his life, Kokichi doubted his Nee-nee.
She must have known, because her smile finally fell, leaving an eerily blank stare in its wake.
"Kokichi, you know that you're sick, right?"
Kokichi whimpered.
"You need someone to take care of you. To tend to your fever."
Her tone was so distant. Was she talking to him, or at him?
"You can't do anything like this. You're so small, so ill, completely helpless..."
She took a shuddering, breathy sigh.
"Who better than the Ultimate Nurse to care for you? " she drawled, her gaze sliding off to the side in a daze. "Your Nee-nee, right? Do you not trust me, Kokichi?"
Kokichi's chest tightened. His head hurt. He was dizzy. He wanted it to stop.
Nee-nee knew best, right?
"I-I trust you, Nee-nee," Kokichi stammered. "I just...!"
He eyed the bag warily.
"I'm scared..."
Her smile returned, and she held out her hand for his. "I know, Koko. Let Nee-nee make the scary sickies go away..."
Kokichi stared at her hand, then looked up at her again. A sweet, reassuring smile graced her features, but that... thing in her eyes remained. Kokichi didn't know what it was. It made his skin crawl, but...
Nee-nee knew best.
He gingerly turned over his arm, and she deftly took it in her chilly hands, turning it over to attach the IV to the port. Kokichi buried his face in his pillow, preparing for the burning sensation that would inevitably creep up his arm and through the rest of his body as the fluids entered his veins.
New episode of To Be Raised By Despair dropping tomorrow, the series where I take a baby Kokichi and plunk him with the Remnants of Despair to raise him.
You guys can request stuff in that setting also, for the record. I want to try to do at least one for every Remnant.
The muse that this story is a backstory for, Loopy, is also open for asks if you're curious!
