Warning, angst ahead.

Bright light assaulted Shuichi's eyes as he peered up, blinding him. He flinched from the pain and slammed his eyes close again. Why was it so bright?

Eyes still closed, Shuichi tried to take in his surroundings. Warm light caressed his face, accompanied by a light breeze that ruffled his hair. He was lying in a cool patch of grass, the blades tickling his fingers. His head was cushioned on something warm and soft.

Shuichi knew he should be alarmed right now, having no idea where he was or how he got there, but a strange tranquility had settled over him, making him lazy and content. Still, he wanted to know what was going on.

Slowly, Shuichi eased his eyes open. As his eyes adjusted, he was able to discern small shadows above him. Leaves, bright green and healthy. Shuichi turned his head and looked around. He seemed to be in the middle of a vast field, empty save for the luxurious grass that carpeted it for miles. Shuichi tilted his head back to look closer at the tree and came to a startling realization.

It wasn't the wind that was toying with his hair.

A pale face gazed down at him. Framed by startling amethyst hair, the face was adorned by large lavender eyes and a slight smile stained with the deepest melancholy. The boy was slowly running a hand through Shuichi's hair.

Shuichi scrunched up his brow. He had felt a jolt of recognition for the moment, but the knowledge of this person's identity still eluded him. He frowned, attempting to chase down the right memory, when he realized...

His head must be resting on the stranger's lap.

Shuichi's eyes widened, and he quickly sat up, or tried to anyway. Before he could, the stranger game a small, humorless chuckle and pushed him back down.

"You don't need to worry Shuichi," the stranger softly assured him. "No harm will come to you here, I promise."

Reluctantly, Shuichi once again rested his head in the stranger lap. How did the stranger know his name? He opened his mouth to ask just that, but despite his efforts, no sound emerged from his throat. Alarmed, Shuichi ran a hand across his neck, yet he found no noticeable wound. His actions did not go unnoticed by the stranger.

"I guess you can't talk in this place," the stranger noted. "That's fine. Actually, it probably makes things easier. I just need you to listen."

Shuichi was confused, but nodded anyway. He didn't see any harm in hearing what the stranger had to say.

"You know what?" the stranger asked. "I take back what I said you making this easy. Why aren't you doing anything? Even if you can't talk, you should be glaring at me, trying to hit me, something. That's how I expected this to go. Instead, you're here with your head in my lap, completely docile and unjudgmental."

All Shuichi could do was continue to stare. It's not like he could answer, even if he could speak. Though he had determined that he probably did know this person, for the life of him he couldn't recall a single detail.

The not-stranger shook his head. "Whatever, I still need to talk to you. And nothing I say will be a lie, okay?" He sighed. "There's no point in telling lies anymore, at least not for me."

The boy continued running his hand through Shuichi's hair absentmindedly, almost like he was petting a cat. "I guess that's the first thing I need to talk about. I never did enjoy lying, in fact I hated it. I know that's hard to believe, but it's true. I... I was afraid, Shuichi. I was so distrustful and afraid of everyone. I didn't want to get hurt by someone close to me, so I put up a wall of lies around myself, never let anyone get close enough to stab me in the back."

He gave another humorless chuckle. "Fat lot of good that did me. Instead of getting stabbed in the back, I got shot with a poison arrow. Looking back on it, since I was going to die either way, I should have just let myself be friends with you guys. I would have been happier that way, for however short a life I would have had."

Now the boy had a faraway stare. Shuichi suspected he was reminiscing about something.

The boy took a deep breath. "That's the second thing I need to talk about. I never did hate you guys. Quite the opposite actually. I actually liked most of you, admired some of you even. I admired that even in the middle of that sick game, you guys could find it in yourselves to band together, support each other, trust each other. I just couldn't do it. I was too suspicious and cynical. You can't be friends with someone when you're always thinking about whether they'll kill you and how."

The not-stranger went quiet now. It looked like the weight of the world had settled on his shoulders. Finally, he spoke again. "I also need to talk to you about what I did, pretending to be the mastermind and arranging a murder."

Shuichi's eyes widened in surprise. Did he hear that right?

Oblivious to Shuichi's surprise, the boy continued on. "I'm sure you remember the motive videos. The moment I saw mine, my fate was sealed. I saw my friends, Dice, ragged and behind bars. I knew whatever had happened to them had already happened, that nothing I could do could change that, so instead I vowed to get revenge. I decided that the best way to do that was to steal the mastermind's role and turn their own game against them, to utterly destroy the game they had put so much effort into."

A sigh escaped the boy's lips. "As for the murder, I wasn't in my right mind when that happened. I was stressed from being in a killing game, grieving for Dice and the people who had died, and depressed over how you guys treated me. The murder, at least to me, was a convoluted attempt at suicide as well as a way to destroy the game. But it was worse than that, because I also dragged someone else down with me."

Shuichi watched as a tear snaked its way down the boy's cheek before splashing onto his. His heart ached for this tormented boy with him. For what he had been through, and for the pain that twisted the boy's voice as he spoke.

Abruptly, the boy stood, dumping Shuichi's head on the ground. The boy looked down at Shuichi, undecided, then offered a hand.

"Come on" said the boy. "I've said my piece, so it's time for you to go." He pulled Shuichi up and pointed to a door that Shuichi swore wasn't here before.

Shuichi took one last look at the boy, mourning the fact he still couldn't remember who he was. Then, he made his way over to the door. Shuichi turned to doorknob and pushed. Before he could take a step forward, however, he felt a tug on his sleeve. He looked back to see the boy, staring at him with determination on his face.

"There's one more thing I have to tell you," the boy whispered. Now, tears were pouring down his face. "Shuichi, I love you."

Shuichi's mouth dropped open in shock, but the boy plowed on nonetheless. 

"During the game, I loved you, but I also hated you. You were so like me, but also so different. Even though you also hated the truth, you confronted it, unlike me, who tried to cover it up and pretend it didn't exist. You saw everyone's weaknesses like I did, but you used that knowledge to  support them, while I used it to taunt and exploit them. And in the end, you were able to save them and so many others by ending the game for good, while my plan completely failed and just led to more death. I love you because you show me how good a person I could be, and I hate you because you show me how messed up a person I am."

All Shuichi could do was stand there. How do you react to something like that?

The boy swallowed and shook his head. "Well, now you know, so it really is time for you to leave." Before Shuichi could react, the boy shoved him through the open doorway.

Shuichi opened his eyes to complete darkness. The wind howled beyond his window, and a chill reached him despite his blanket. The pillow beneath his head was stiff and uncomfortable.

"I love you too, Kokichi Ouma," Shuichi said to himself.

But it was far too late. Kokichi Ouma was long gone, and there was nothing he could do about it.