Work Text:
It feels awkward for Shuichi to be watching him; he’s still pissed off, even if his mind won’t settle on an exact thought to explain why. And now, here he is, the woman who brings stars into his soul wrapping her arms around him, her hands atop his, telling him, “no, you assemble it this way,” and “yeah, that piece goes there.” Sure, there’s a crossbow and an unspoken illness between them, but Kaito feels like he’s in the best case scenario of the worst situation of his life.
So really, he’s not surprised that he can’t settle on why he’s mad at Shuichi.
If he had to guess, it’d be because of Gonta. He’s angry at Kokichi for masterminding the whole plan, angry at himself for feeling outsmarted by someone he hates, angry at Gonta for being so gullible, but he’s angry at Shuichi because, in the infinite detective wisdom that Kaito has begun to rely on, he couldn’t stop any of this.
That’s what he gets for trusting people. It’s hard for him to open up, and now it feels as though Shuichi has pushed his fists, bloody already, into his beaten down stomach; Kaito wants to throw up more and more blood until the thick heat of redness explores his entire life and settles on a gravestone in construction.
Of course, that can all be pushed aside right now; bottled up like he’s done for his whole life, and with his death approaching, perhaps he can hold on just long enough to take his insecurities to the grave, letting everyone remember him as the hero of falsity that he knows he is. And if he’s going to die soon, he may as well enjoy his final days on earth, even if they are inside this academy.
Ah, earth, the academy - the places he yearns to no longer be. Is this it? Could he, Kaito Momota, Luminary of the Stars, die on earth? Will the stars kiss him, sing him to sleep, the lost opportunity of a could-have-been astronaut? Again, a fraud, his Ultimate talent mocking him right until the last second and…
Her hands are on his again, and he sighs, forgetting the train of thought that had almost brought tears into his eyes. At least he has something akin to love to keep him going. Even if it hurts more than the ache in his chest - the coughing, the blood, the illness. The thoughts of a life with Maki that he can never have hurt him immeasurably; if only they weren’t in this damn killing game, and he could get to a hospital, and then he could take her to the stars and they’d never return to this earth that has ruined them both.
Now, his thoughts overcome him; if only they world couldn’t turn without them, and some cosmic force could keep him alive - if he could get a little cottage with her, and grow vegetables in the back garden, watch the stars at night and feel love - boundless, infinite love that doesn’t choke them with the blood of their friends and their future.
Frustrated, he puts the next crossbow piece in the wrong place, and she seems exasperated. He’s let her down again; he just needs to play the hero as much as he needs the air that sticks dry in his throat and rubs raw until he breaks himself apart for just one more day at life. But she’s not mad, at least not for long.
“I was the same when I first learned this,” she says.
“Really?”
“Yeah. It’s a complicated one. Honestly…I’m questioning whether I should even be teaching you. Knowing how to assemble a crossbow…it’s not knowledge that anyone normal should ever have to know.”
“I guess this isn’t a normal situation, is it? And besides…”
“If you’re gonna tell me that women shouldn’t use weapons again, save it.”
“No, no, not that. I mean…look, I’d just rather hold a crossbow than watch you do it. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“If you think I need protecting, I don’t.”
“I know…that’s what scares me.”
“A-Anyway,” she says, looking away, “you’re nearly there. Just put that piece there and…”
“Yeah, got it! Thanks Maki!”
“Yeah…no problem, Kaito.”
He looks towards Shuichi, trying to find a hint of any deduction in his eyes, but then he remembers the narrative he’s playing himself into, and he falls apart, smiling.
They don’t know. They never know. Everyone thinks that he’s fine, but from the way his coughs hack at his throat, he knows that he’s not got long left. And then there’s the bathroom, the crossbow, the poison, the hydraulic press. Then there’s the exisal, and the lying, and trying to look at Maki whilst pretending to be someone she hates - isn’t that easier? To be hated? Is that why Kokichi did it? Lying to everyone, staining himself in falsity; they’re not that different after all. But his insecurity plays on him once more; for a liar, he’s so desperate to be liked. Kokichi just wanted to help out by making himself hated, but Kaito…
Kaito needs more.
Which is why it hurts to finally make eye contact with Maki and Shuichi after he exits the exisal. The betrayal in their eyes breaks him down, and now there’s no point lying to them any more - he didn’t just ‘cut his throat coughing’, the blood is coming from inside him, spilling out death and lies and stifling the truth right up until the moment Monokuma forces him into the rocket.
Scarlet blood, the inevitable heat death of the universe, the word execution.
He stares at Maki until he can’t look at anything any longer. The world around him falls apart, and the astronaut on earth gets his dream just as he dies, but it feels hollow. Stars are not beautiful - they’re burning up inside his chest, aching and spitting and coughing and blood, blood, so much blood that he begins to drown inside what he’s forced himself into.
There are no second chances. The final piece of the crossbow clicks into place, and Kaito Momota - flawed and bloody and dead - falls down to earth at Maki’s feet. The only good thing here is that the dead can’t hear their lovers sob.