This Is Not Okay

Each Scar Holds a Story

Shuichi's hands pushed the floor, planted beside Kagehara's head. He looked down on the man, his cap having slipped away. Their clothed abdomens warmed each other, legs tangled as Shuichi froze. The man was acutely aware of the blush dusting his cheeks which instantly worsened it.

Being so close to the other man, Shuichi noticed a few new things about him. Kagehara had a few faint freckles dusting his nose and cheeks. Did Shuichi have those? He'd not ever noticed them before, so maybe that was another difference between them. He also noticed a small, indented scar on the man's bottom lip.

"Take a picture, it'll make some good wank material." Shuichi blinked, staring at Kagehara's smirk. It took a few moments for Kagehara's words to sink in, but when they did, Shuichi's eyes widened as he scrambled backwards to free the man. "You're fucking weird," Kagehara huffed as he jumped to his feet.

Kagehara turned, ignoring the blushing mess as he grabbed pyjamas from a second dresser. Monokuma, despite not providing the two with another bed, had furnished the room with another dresser for Kagehara's clothes. The man wore a different uniform than Shuichi. He wore black pants, a black blazer over a white dress shirt along with a navy blue tie with thin, white stripes.

As Kagehara disappeared behind the bathroom door, Shuichi hurried to stand up and his pyjamas. Whilst changing, he hoped that his blush faded and silently begged whatever higher power in existence that Kagehara wouldn't tease him. After changing into his pyjama pants, Shuichi froze before replacing his shirt.

He glanced at his torso, sighing at the sight. Miniature scars littered his skin, almost like someone implanted thousands of toothpicks into his body. One large, ugly scar trailed from the right side of his midriff to his armpit.

Shuichi sighed and traced a finger through the indent left behind by the injury. It wasn't pretty in the slightest. He despised it, despised the situation that caused it. He'd never be able to hide it, not when it was snow-white and jagged. The detective had considered plastic surgery to make it more sightly but his uncle refused to let that happen. His uncle told him to embrace his past as it made him the person he was today, but Shuichi just wanted to forget.

"What's the story behind that one?" Hissing in surprise, Shuichi twirled to see Kagehara leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He didn't try to hide the fact that he was analysing Shuichi's body, the thought making the latter blush again. God he was a mess and the meeting with Akamatsu didn't help.

"I got injured," Shuichi mumbled as he hurried to slip his top on to cover the scars. He chucked the day's clothes into their laundry hamper, hurrying to slip into bed. Damn Akamatsu, why did she have to make him sleep beside Kagehara after suggesting they play spin the fucking bottle. Hopefully, Kagehara would pick up the hint and not ask further.

Well, maybe hope isn't enough sometimes.

"Are you going to tell me? Come on, I'm curious." Shuichi felt the bed dip beside him. Now he was trapped between his crush and a wall in a situation he'd rather avoid.

"No." Why couldn't he get the hint?

"I'll tell you the story about my scar in return, I saw you looking at it."

"No."

Shuichi's brain spun as his body moved suddenly. Kagehara pushed him onto his back, swinging a leg over to straddle the detective's hips. His eyes widened as Shuichi averted his gaze. Talk about embarrassing; Shuichi was purely and utterly horrified right now. "It's time you learnt that I always get what I want, Shuichi. I want you to tell me how you got those scars."

"Why do you want to know?" His voice barely broke above a whisper.

"Why do I need a reason?" Kagehara challenged.