It was still morning, but Amami still hadn't moved for a good half an hour or so after the announcement. He still found relaxation important in such a dangerous situation, especially when tensions were so high. But, some others didn't seem to think of that when there was a somewhat frantic knocking at his door. He groaned as he sat up a little too quickly, which was enough to make his head spin for a moment. He tossed one of the loose shirts from the closet over his lithe frame, pulled a pair of pants on, and dragged himself over to the door. He opened it, eyeing over a rather nervous detective, his hat pulled down to cover his eyes from his taller peer.

"Is something wrong, Saihara?" he began slowly, voice still a tad stuck in his throat from laying down.

"Uhm, well, I was told to come get you to come to the cafeteria. Monokuma has a new motive for us since no one has started... yet," he explained. Amami noticed the intentional cut of the 'killing' part; anyone with half a brain would know that no one in the school wanted to even think about what might happen. "Plus, you know, it doesn't sit very well with anyone when you're missing from the table."

Amami ran his hand up against the hair on his neck, idly scratching it as he offered a short huff of a laugh to help ease Saihara's nerves a little. "I can understand that. I'll be out in a second, I only got presentable enough to open the door."

With a quick nod from the other student, Amami shut the door again, moving off to find the rest of his outfit. After slipping on his rings and running a hand through his hair once over, he left the room again with his survivor perk tucked as far into his back pocket as it would go. He wanted it on hand in case the motive proved to be dangerous, plus he didn't really need his regular Monopad on his person at that point, anyway. He gestured for Saihara to lead the way, despite not needing a guide, and followed after him as he started for the main school building. There wasn't any further conversation between the two, but Amami could definitely feel the concerned vibe coming off of Saihara. It was understandable, though, so he didn't think to bring it up. Anything that bear had to say was trouble.

As he walked in through the doors to see the other 14 students scattered among the long table, he heard a couple of people sigh in relief. Did they really think he was already dead?

"You really should come straight away in the mornings," came from Tojo, which made him glance over to her. "We all want to stay safe, so anyone being alone worries us."

Amami smiled softly at her words, which were always gentle, yet guiding. "You're right, my apologies of course. I just-"

He was cut off by Ouma, who slumped over the table dramatically and slapped his palms downwards to make a small noise. "Can we just get to the motive already? We know he survived now, so let's get on with it, huh?"

As if on cue, Monokuma made his usual annoying appearance as he hopped through the doors, slipping by Amami and Saihara's legs; which, being a bit surprising, made the latter flinch to narrow his stance. "Of course we can get to the motive!" he proudly exclaimed, not bothering to match the mood of the scene, as per usual. "It might take a while for everyone to notice who's got it, but your new push to start up this little ol' game is a disease!" Everyone in the dining hall fell completely silent at that, eyes peering around from every spot of the room. A disease? That certainly didn't seem like a first choice, seeing as it sounded a bit drastic to coax out the first murder. But, then again, it had been a long time since the whole thing began, around two months to be more precise, so it was probably more an act out of desperation.

"What kind of disease?" Finally the question broke through the deafening silence that filled the air, as Maki was getting a little impatient with the headmaster.

"I'm so glad you asked! It's a mysterious and twisted sickness- one that thrives off of the host's poor feelings. A garden of lovely, colourful, and best of all sharp flowers will blossom in someone's chest as they grow more attached to someone else until it's to a point of love. Romantic or not, as long as their beloved classmate does not pick up on their advances in love, more petals will grow until they suffocate."

Yumeno gulped down a lump in her throat. "S-suffocate?!"

"Yeah, what are you getting at here? Why would you kill one of us if that would just defeat the point of this whole setup?" argued Momota, who tapped his fist into his other hand to crack his joints.

"Oh don't worry! If the infected student fails to fall in love, then all of you will die along with them via punishment for ignoring my motives for too long." There went the silence again, everyone in the room unsure of how to react other than feel the threat slowly build in their guts.

Iruma, however, chipped at it very effectively as she called out, "Then why don't we all just get to kissin' each other? One big pile, come on, move it!"

"Ya' can't just go around smooching up on everyone in the room!" Monokuma spat angrily. "As the infected, if you kiss someone that you aren't truly in love with, then you will fail the motive and be punished at the next class trial along with the blackened, or the class if they vote incorrectly. This is really your last warning, so it's extra fun for everyone!"

Amami held his arms tightly in a crossed position, his brow tensed as he listened to the motive. Saihara shifted uncomfortably beside him, which prompted his close friend, Akamatsu, to get up from her chair to stay by his side as a comfort point.

"Now, you all should get to finding out who the infected is! Without that, you'll never be able to-"

Kiibo interrupted Monokuma somewhat hesitantly, but with purpose in his words. "So you're not even going to tell us who has the disease?"

"Hey, leave the talking to me! Of course I'm not! How else are you guys gonna feel any drive to get courting?"

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!" yelled Iruma once more, many other students following in complaining about how confusing the new motive was. The tense aura of the whole room picked up in sync with the rise in volume, which had everyone more riled up. No one was listening when Monokuma yelled out for them to shut up and listen. In fact, it really only made more people butt in to give their two-cents. Amami cringed at how careless everyone was being with this, just throwing around ideas of how to get around and get it over with. He looked around at everyone who was talking, trying to pick out someone to try and calm down. It would be easier to do it individually, or in a small group. First, his eyes landed on Ouma, but as their eyes locked he dismissed the idea. He wasn't talking, plus he didn't show any signs of stress about the situation. Amami then glanced to Chabashira, who was consoling Yumeno, and wrote them off as well. He decided on going over to see Yonaga, since she was seemingly bothering Kiibo a bit too much, but he was quickly interrupted.

A loud, throaty cough rung out in the cafeteria, immediately shutting up the uproar from all the others. Everyone turned to find Ouma curled over into himself, his hand shaky as he lifted his face to see a small, unharmed flower sitting in his palm.

No one moved, aside from Ouma himself who just started laughing, his expression surprisingly joyed. But, then again, could you ever really trust what he did? "Wow, okay, damn! Pretty predictable for me to get it, don'tcha think? That's just boring," he sighed, looking over the plant in his hands for only a few seconds before he tossed it carelessly onto his plate.

"Hm, that was a little easy, wasn't it?" Monokuma wondered to himself, tapping his paw up against his mouth in thought. "A little disappointing, sure, but then again, who cares! Have fuuun!" And with a bounce in his step, he moved past a very shocked Saihara to leave the dining hall. 

"It's... Ouma? Ouma's the infected?" he said finally, grabbing the brim of his hat to adjust over his eyes since the vibe of the room got a lot more intense. 

Iruma huffed indignantly. "Of course it would be the liar, why the hell does the one no one likes gotta' get the final motive!" 

"Ohhh, too bad, you would get pissy over something like that, wouldn't you?" Ouma mocked in a sour tone. 

"Ouma, none of us are happy about this," Amami reminded him as Iruma backed down in cowardice, hearing a few other mumbles of agreement spike up once he did. He saw a slight hitch in the student-in-question's breathing, but wasn't sure what to do with that since a lot of people spoke at once about their distaste. 

He just rolled his eyes to distract from the scratch in his throat that everyone in the room could practically feel as he spoke roughly. "Well then I'll be happy about it for you! This is the first thrill I've gotten directly, let me get some kick out of it at least," he said, clasping his hands behind his head as he leaned back in his chair. "But that's a lie, isn't it?"

"Oh, shut up already and tell us who you're achin' for!" Iruma's confidence was back almost as fast as Ouma swapped to a distraught face, his eyes watering almost immediately. 

"You're... You're not serious? Don't you know they'll hate me if I confess..?" he mumbled weakly, eyebrows knit up with false worry. Saihara frowned at this, pointing out to him just how obvious it was that he was faking it. Ouma's face fell to his normal, almost cheery expression once he pointed it out, shrugging as he stood up with a grin on his face. "Of course I should expect the Ultimate Detective to notice. Ya' got me, Saihara!" 

He grabbed his plate off of the table with one hand, and kicked his chair back into place with his foot as he wandered over to Tojo momentarily. He handed the dish off to her, and headed off for the exit to the cafeteria once she took it with a short nod. Saihara mustered up a short burst of confidence, enough to stick his arm out and grab his shoulder, spinning him around to face everyone again. "You can't just leave!" he said, and then paused when he noticed how firm he sounded. "Ah- I mean, we still have to figure things out about your sickness," he explained, a bit calmer that time. 

Ouma cocked his head ever so slightly, tapping his finger to his chin as if he were actually considering the offer. "Hm... Nope! This motive is basically mine, and mine alone, yeah? So I'll do it my own way," he snickered.

"No, I don't think it is, Ouma," Kiibo started. "We all are going to die if you fail to court your special person, so this concerns all of us."

"Oh? So now I'm supposed to listen to the robot about human feelings? Nishishi, yeah, okay."

And with that he strolled out of the room, ignoring the rest of people's protests to him doing so. Amami bit his lip, just generally unsure of a lot of things in that moment. He sighed out a breath, looking across the room as people muttered about what just happened. Seeing as no one was paying attention, he decided to go off and catch Ouma before he retreated to wherever he usually escaped to- most likely just his dorm room- but was halted by Saihara for a moment. "Hm?" he hummed with a questioning look.

"You're going after him? I mean- I guess that's obvious.. But, just be careful, okay? I... Don't like to not trust everyone here, but you never know with Ouma is all I'm saying. He could be lying again."

Amami responded with a calm smile and a pat on his shoulder, which made the detective tense up somewhat. "I know, I can handle myself. You've got no need to worry, Saihara."

With a limp nod from him, Amami left to go find their missing classmate. It didn't take very long for him to spot him, but almost as quickly as he was found, he lost sight of him again. This was going to be a hassle.

It was almost as if Ouma was purposefully avoiding him whenever they spotted each other; it felt like a game of tag in a way. Whenever Amami thought he was going to catch up to him- not that he was rushing, he was still just walking- the other always managed to find a quicker path out of the way. Eventually, it came to an end, though, when Ouma made his way into his own room. Amami briefly considered leaving him alone, but also remembered that everyone's lives were on the line because of him and just couldn't bring himself to do that. None of them knew how long they had until the motive was considered a bust, after all.

He tapped his fist up against the sliding door, and was promptly met with silence. Of course he would be. "Ouma?" he tried, keeping his knuckles pressed up against the hard surface. "I saw you come in here, I just want to talk." Again, there was no movement on the other side of the door, but it stopped after a while when there was a muffled cough, followed by a soft groan of defeat. There were a few moments of shuffling inside the room before Ouma was at the door, only sliding it about halfway open. He gave a bright smile, so obviously forced due to how happy it looked.

"So my beloved Amami does really care about me? How thoughtful!" he piped, gripping the door tightly with both hands. "What were you gonna' say?"

Amami clicked his tongue up against the roof of his mouth, not really appreciating the cheery attitude that the other student was fronting. It must have translated through his face since Ouma's smile faultered, eyes narrowing just a touch.

"...You say you want to talk and then give me silence. I'm gonna close the door if you don't start, you know."

Amami sighed, folding his arms loosely as he looked down at him. "Can you let me in first at least?"

"Ohh, I see. Does Amami want to kill me in private? That would be rather convenient, huh?"

"No! Is that all you ever think about?" he defended, frowning slightly at his own sharp tone. Ouma just cocked his head to the side, his grin going as strong as before, though now it was more out of amusement. "It's just that you said you didn't feel like indulging anyone else about your.. predicament, so I thought it would be better if I weren't standing in the hallway where someone can hear."

Ouma considered the offer, and surprisingly, with a shrug he slid the door the rest of the way open. "There's really not much to say about it, but fine." There were so many questions buzzing around Amami's head, but he opted not to mention that when he stepped through.

The door was once again closed before either of them said anything, and Ouma hopped down to sit on the edge of his mattress, crossing his legs on top and patting the spot next to him. The sheets were set up nicely, save for a corner on the side opposite to the entrance that was overturned. Amami moved from where he was standing, after realizing he just stared off in the other's direction at first, and sat where he was offered a seat. His legs were just slightly too long to rest his feet on the ground without his knees propping up, so he crossed his ankles for comfort.

"So, what?" Amami glanced over at his peer, raising a brow at the vague question. "What did you want to ask?" he clarified, looking at him with somewhat thin patience written all over his face.

"Well, there's a lot I could ask," he said, keeping his eyes trained on Ouma's so he could at least try to tell when he was lying. "But for right now, just how do you feel?"

"Feel as in..?" he prompted, looking for more information before he started.

"Anything, really. Physically, emotionally. Surely this isn't an easy thing to just take in?"

Ouma bit the inside of his cheek, his face not revealing much to the other student as he thought about it. "I mean, it sucks, sure. But I can get anyone to like me! I mean, you came to check up on me and I didn't even have to try." His face was smug as he spoke the last part, almost triumphant.

"I would've checked up on anyone. This is a big risk, and as long as I sit by and possibly let it fail, I'd feel horrible." Ouma's brow flinched slightly, his expression falling to a calmer state, but still ever smiling up at him.

"How admirable," he drawled out. "Hey, maybe your talent is the Ultimate Parent! You sure act like one, at least."

Amami ignored the jab and idly scratched his thumb up against the somewhat rough fabric of his pants. "Right. But aren't you worried? Like Iruma said earlier, no one here exactly trusts you. You don't exactly lend yourself to a trustworthy personality."

Ouma looked down and off to the side, his shoulders jolting momentarily. Amami wasn't sure what kind of reaction to take that as. He finally spoke up after a moment to swallow down a comeback. "Like I said, I can get people on my side if I go for it." His voice sounded serious, almost upset if Amami was being generous. But, that quickly vanished when he faced him again, his eyes crinkled up with his grin. "I am the Ultimate Supreme Leader, after all. A leader has to be able to make people follow him, even if they're unwilling at first."

Amami frowned at this. "Sure, but romance doesn't work the same way as an organization. Neither does a friendship."

"Maybe so, but I can handle it. Aren't you my friend, Rantarou?"

Amami was a bit taken aback by the sudden use of his given name, his eyebrows knotting up in confusion. "I didn't say we weren't, but you still have to remember that everyone's lives are riding on you falling in love." Saying that made him feel childish, almost; it felt like this whole thing was a joke, even if he knew it wasn't.

"I told you, I've got this!" Ouma justified himself rather quickly, jumping in right at the end and almost interrupting him. It sounded very forced, artificial almost.

"You don't sound very sure about that."

Ouma tapped his fingers up against his ankles in silence, which were no longer one on top of the other like he had originally sat. He'd moved to a butterfly position, his knees sticking up a touch since his feet were so close to himself. "Maybe I'm not," he admitted finally, peeling his eyes away from Amami.

He was shocked to hear that from Ouma, impressed even that he was willing to give up something finally. That was short lived, however, since he started chuckling quietly.

"Wow, you actually believed that? You should see your face!" he jested, poking his finger against Amami's forehead. "That was a lie." It took everything inside of Amami to not smack his hand away, slightly embarassed that he assumed Ouma would trust him with that information. There was no way someone as confident as him would just let themselves be killed, right? But, there was still something about his original sentence that bugged him, even if he was convinced that it wasn't fact. It was just way too long of a pause- Ouma always made up his lies immediately. He was good at it, and one might even assume he was a compulsive liar with how often he outted his own fibs. The lack of crocodile tears accompanying the statement was a change of pace, though. Either way, it was hard to nail what he was telling the truth about or not, him being a good actor and all.

Going off of this, Amami narrowed his eyes. "Are you sure about that?" Ouma lowered his finger, his violet eyes shining with curiosity at the interest. Yes, he doubted himself, but he was going to run with his insistent thoughts, even if it meant more embarrassment on his part. "I mean, with how much you lie, that felt less natural. I don't think you are."

Ouma pressed his tongue up against the side of his mouth, lips parted slightly as if he wanted to speak but didn't know what to say. Amami laughed softly, continuing to prod at him. "That's a new one. You don't expect people to call your bluff very often, do you?"

"Nope!" he agreed, straightening himself back out rather quickly. "You're very good at this, Amami, have I become too predictable for you?" It was a bit disappointing that he didn't get any further emotion, his answer being just as peppy as when they first started. This was barely going anywhere.

"You're never predictable," he sighed, humouring his classmate for once with a small smile. He received a much larger one in return, and he couldn't help but feel a bit of pride at that. "But you never really answered my question."

"Sure I did. I told you that I was confident in what I can do."

"Yes, I know, but how do you feel with the flowers in your chest? Do they hurt?"

Ouma considered it for a moment, even beating his fist up against his chest to test it out. Amami swatted his shoulder gently at that, tensing up his face. "Don't rustle them up, that's going to make things worse."

"It's fine," he assured him, waving his hand dismissively despite a few small coughs that escaped from hitting himself. "They don't feel horrible, I guess. Just heavy."

"Even when you cough them up? I thought Monokuma said they were sharp?"

"Oh, they are!" he said, pointing his finger up to gesture to a cut on his lip. As faint as it was, it was still very much so visible once you knew it was there. "When they come up they hurt like hell."

Amami cringed at that, only able to imagine how raw his throat and mouth must feel. "So they have been coming up? Don't they only do that when your special person rejects you?"

Ouma shrugged, letting his hand fall against the sheets, almost hitting Amami's on the way down. "Yeah, when I move around a lot they either get prickly or come out. Maybe it's meant to act as like a time limit."

"How often do you spit them up?"

"When I left the dining hall, it was just the once. In the last hour or so it happened twice, but then again I was walking around kinda quickly at that point." He paused, glancing straight into Amami's eyes. "But you would know that, wouldn't you?"

It felt weird being called out on following him around the schoolyard, but then again it wasn't like he was reaching out to grab him while doing so. Or, maybe that just made it seem worse. "Hahah I guess so," he mumbled, scratching at the undercut on the back of his neck. Ouma didn't seem upset at how he was followed, just smug at catching him in doing so. That was good at least, but he still wanted to justify himself. "Can you really blame me, though? You're always sneaking off on your own, and especially with this new motive of yours, you can't really be trusted so easily."

Ouma nodded without much thought, his throat trembling momentarily. Amami assumed that he was going to break out in false tears at any moment, but they never came. "Amami is so mean to think I would try and hurt him! You said after all that I'm supporting everyone's lives, so why would I try to be suspicious now?"

"Leaving so suddenly to snoop around school is definitely what I would consider suspicious," he pointed out a little bluntly.

Ouma once again hesitated, but filled the silence with a very low frown, and slowly let tears fall from his eyes. He wailed loudly and suddenly, wiping his face unsuccessfully as tears poured down his cheeks. "Why do you hate me so much?!" he sobbed, moving to press his face into his palms and hide himself from his classmate.

Amami didn't buy it for a second. "I don't hate you, stop that." Ouma was very quick to lift his head back up, his face showing no signs of previously having been bawling his eyes out, aside from the irritation around his eyelids, as he smiled up at him gratefully.

"I knew that!" he said, closing his eyes for a moment. It was just enough force to push one last tear over his lid and onto his face.

"Ah, here," Amami mentioned absentmindedly as he reached out to wipe it off of his skin. Ouma froze up under his touch, just staring back at him with blank eyes.

"I could've gotten it."

"Oh, right," he chuckled a bit awkwardly as he retracted his hand to rest in his lap. "I guess I'm just used to comforting my sisters is all, so it's somewhat of a reflex."

Ouma cocked a brow. "Didn't you say you lost your sisters?"

"And you remembered?" he poked, still carrying some humour in his tone. "Yeah, I did. But I spent a lot of time helping my parents raise them since I was the oldest, so even if that was forever ago it feels natural."

Amami felt a little comfort in the fact that Ouma cared enough about him to remember his story about wanting to find his sisters. Even so, a weak cough brought him back to the reality he was being forced to face. "I guess we got a bit side tracked, huh? What happened?"

Ouma rubbed his fingers over his throat soothingly, but his face didn't hold much evident pain. "Just them moving around," he claimed. "It's probably because I hit my chest earlier."

He was relieved, even if it wasn't pleasant in the first place, that it was just a small shift. "I told you not to," he reminded him calmly.

"I know, I know."

"Well, now you know not to do it," he mumbled, mostly to himself more than anything else. He was so used to being able to flow with a conversation easily, but this was so much different than what he was used to. He moved with it easily for all of a few minutes before they hit a stop sign, and then he had to start all over with his thinking. That was the pit he fell into once again, trying to nail down one of the racing thoughts he had to ask. Before he could, however, Ouma spoke up.

"Hey, when did you get this?" he asked suddenly, reached up to grab at one of the piercings in Amami's right ear. He only received a confused look in response. "Or any of them- did they hurt?"

Carefully, Amami reached up to grab Ouma's hand, pulling against his fingers to stop him from pinching the metal and leaning his head away as he spoke. "You're changing the subject." He basically tossed Ouma's hand back to him, the other not taking the hint to retract it on his own. 

"Well you're not offering one to go off of."

"Still, you know what I came in here to talk about. Knock it off, this is serious," he reminded him sternly, his expression matching his annoyance.

"I never-.. Never promised to take it seriously, you know."

"Do you ever? Because so far in all the time we've been here you've only proven yourself to be childish and hard to get along with. You're lucky I like spending time with you."

Ouma fell silent, letting the weight of his words sink in. Not that it appeared that way on the outside, however, since he stood up and pointed to the door. When Amami muttered a noise of inquiry, he was still only offered silence and a harsher, repeat gesture towards the door.

He stared up at Ouma, trying to study his face as he slowly stood up. His expression was purely neutral, so he couldn't take anything away from it. Even though the action just proved what Amami said about him being childish, he obeyed anyways and left the room. He paused nearby the entrance to his dorm, looking back in at him as he hooked his fingertips around the indented handle. This time, Ouma's face was lifted towards him, but all he could see before he slid the door closed was his uneven grin, and just assumed that he had imagined the thin trace of blood on his lips.

--

It was hard for Amami to let go of their conversation, and even found that his mind persisted while he was trying to fall asleep that night. Something about the way his lies sounded were just off. They weren't quite as fluid as usual, and not nearly as frequent either. He had tried to chalk it up to Ouma finding out the lengths of the motive, but then again, he never reacted nearly as strongly to the others. Maybe being forced to act on feelings made him uncomfortable, and if so he was still remarkably good at hiding it. He was just unlucky that Amami was both an overly curious and generally intelligent guy.

The next morning, however, instead of dwelling on what they had talked about prior, he was flooded with all new questions. Was there going to be a point where Ouma would just stop answering him? It seemed to be heading that way from how he was kicked out, but that also could have been because of the specific content of what they discussed. Even with all the confusion that he was faced with, though, Amami was sure that he was going to try again.

Once again, Saihara arrived at his door, but much earlier just to make sure he was up to get to the dining hall on time. When they arrived, most people were already there, so they sat together and talked until everyone was inside. Ouma was the last to arrive, his casual stroll into the room making everyone stare up at him from their seats. He chose to ignore it, sliding a chair out and plopping himself carelessly next to Amami.

No one spoke for a while, so Shinguuji raised his voice first. "Ouma, how has your illness been treating you?"

Ouma simply shrugged, tilting his chair back and forth. "It's hooorrible, I'm in constant pain," he chirped sarcastically, not even bothering to look in the other's direction. Instead, his eyes were casted off towards Saihara, or at least in his and Amami's general direction. "But that's a lie, of course."

"Nyeh..? It doesn't bother you?" Yumeno asked lazily, her fingers tugging gently against the cufflinks on her uniform. "Isn't it supposed to hurt, though?"

"Who knows?" he said, turning his head to glance at her with a secretive smile. That was definitely on the list of what to ask him later, Amami noted.

"Hey, answer her question, you degenerate!" Chabashira snapped at him, moving to her friend's side protectively. Ouma still refused to cough it up, instead choosing to let the chair's front legs hit the floor again to emphasize himself as he said no.

"We're not getting anywhere by yelling at him," Amami sighed finally. He noticed Ouma shifting in his seat momentarily through his peripheral vision, but didn't look. "Maybe we're all annoyed at him, but the more pressure is put on him the more likely it is he'll fail the motive."

Tojo nodded, along with Saihara and Akamatsu as well, and then moved towards the entrance to the kitchen. "I will cook for you all since the tension is a bit high at the moment, it may help." Many people voiced their thanks for her kindness, but Ouma just stood up.

Amami reached up to grab his arm before he could go anywhere. "What?"

"You can't just keep running away from this."

"But I'm not?" Ouma looked at him innocently, tapping his finger up against his cheek as if he didn't know what he was talking about.

"You're literally leaving us every morning! Pretty fuckin' pathetic if you ask me!" Iruma cackled.

"Oh, don't worry. He'll find me on his own." With that distracting Amami enough, Ouma yanked his arm out of his grip and left the cafeteria with much the same attitude as the previous morning.

Shinguuji shuddered, his laugh grating through the room's quiet. "As long as he is sure one of us is that intrigued by him, then we should have no need to worry. Truly a beautiful display..."

Amami desperately wanted to chase after Ouma again, but decided he could at least wait until after breakfast. Tojo always went through the trouble, plus he wanted to blame his previous conversational troubles on hunger. He had left before eating, after all. So, he sat and made small talk with Saihara, brushing off his gentle questions about what happened after he left the day before.

Tojo's meal, as per usual, was delicious. She never seemed to cook the same thing twice, but all the traditional dishes made for an almost nostalgic feeling, at least for Amami. He thanked her on his way out, his dish sitting underneath Saihara's since he offered to take them in once he was done talking with Akamatsu. He wasn't the first person to leave, having seen Kiibo trail alongside Iruma after Gokuhara squeezed his hand too hard. It was an accident, so Momota made sure to console him, but he didn't stick around to see the end of their talking. He was too focused on Ouma.

He headed for the dorms first, since that was where he ended up the last time, but didn't see or hear any sign of Ouma. That is, until he jolted at the sudden flick against the back of his neck, followed by the devious laughter that he's come to know so well.

"Amami is certainly curious about me, hm?" he began, holding his arms behind his back as his peer turned to face him. "Well, it's only natural. I am the most interesting person here."

"Oh? And what if I said you weren't?" Amami jested back.

"Then that'd be a total lie! You know how much I hate liars!" Ouma scowled at him ineffectively, his hands dropping back to his sides clenched in fists.

"Right. I, ah, had more to talk with you about, if you don't mind?"

"Well, I'm a very busy person. But if I squeeze that one thing back," he mumbled to himself, as if it were actually true. "...then sure, I can make time for you!" Amami just chuckled softly, stepping to the side to let Ouma open his door. Which, surprisingly, wasn't even locked in the first place.

"Not going to keep yourself safe? Or, I guess your stuff since you weren't in there."

Ouma headed into his dorm quickly, positioning himself in the same spot as before, but this time laying down. "There's not much in here that I can't replace or get back if I really needed it. I don't care about that so much- everyone here seems to goody-two-shoes for stealing, anywho- well, except for Harukawa."

Amami slid the door shut, just choosing to ignore the rather quiet, shrill noise the track produced, and sat down next to him. "Oh, is that your own way of saying that you trust us?"

"No way I'd trust anyone!" he argued, shoving his finger in Amami's direction accusingly. 

"Not even me? You seem to trust me with just a bit more information than anyone else here."

"Nope!" Liar.

Amami twirled one of the rings on his fingers around, letting the familiar setting wash over him. This was the Ouma he was so used to: playful and mischevious, maybe even a tad vulnerable if he was feeling generous. This was the Ouma that made him feel comforted, even when the other was busy acting up a storm of lies. This was the Ouma that, quite frankly, made his heart swell with admiration. He missed just hanging out with him so casually, as the more recent motives had driven a small wedge between the two. It was refreshing, even if the persona he wrapped himself up in didn't seem ideal to most at first glance.

He didn't have very long to dwell on the good feeling before he heard Ouma sputter, his chest arcing off the sheets momentarily as he fell into a short coughing fit. He turned around quickly and pulled him upright, rubbing his back soothingly. "What happened this time, are you okay?" he asked worriedly, not exactly sure how to handle the situation. Realistically, what could he even do?

Ouma started calming down, lightly smacking the back of his hand against Amami's arm to get him to let go. Once his choking ended, he looked up at him, small tears from the stress on his body thinning out as he beamed. "I'm alright! That was way better than the last time, anyways."

"...The last time?" he prompted slowly.

"Yeah, I've been coughing way more since yesterday."

Ouma's voice was way too casual for what he was saying, it seemed. It was a bit off putting. "How often is that, exactly? Have you been moving around like the other day?"

"Nishishi, Amami cares about me so much!" he snickered, leaning towards him slightly. "No, I haven't. It just starts rustling around on its own, even if he isn't around."

That was the thing; Amami so desperately wanted to just ask him who "he" was, but would he even get a straight answer? Probably not. "That's not good- oh, hahah I guess that's obvious, huh?" he muttered sadly, genuinely worried for his best friend's health.

"Mmmhm." Ouma looked away from him momentarily, sitting up straighter than the lean he was just in. He didn't look particularly distressed about the fact, but what else was to be expected of him, really?

Amami nodded, mostly to fill time while he sorted himself out. Then, he remembered that he already had something that he needed to ask from breakfast. "Why haven't you told anyone else about how much it hurts? If they know you're in pain, then-"

"-Then they'll know how vulnerable I am and try to off me."

"That's not what I meant. I was saying that they'll pity you and it'll be easier for you to finish the motive." Ouma frowned as he spoke.

"You bug me about seeing romance like I see my subordinates and then go and just treat my feelings like they're just a motive," he complained with a pout.

Amami clenched his teeth, feeling slightly defeated. He was right, even if he hated to admit it. They were both wrong. "Right, sorry," he agreed, rubbing the back of his head with an apologetic smile. "I just don't want you to shut yourself off from whoever- from him, rather, and make this whole thing worse for yourself."

Ouma shifted his weight on the bed, propping one of his legs up so he could lean against his knee. "What makes you think I'm shutting off?"

"Well, first of all, you're letting me take up so much of your time when you could be talking to him," he suggesting, watching as Ouma folded his hands under his chin, curiosity shining in his eyes. "And you refuse to talk to anyone else pretty much at all. It just seems so inconvenient, no?"

He simply shrugged. "I don't think so, actually."

Amami raised a brow and flipped his wrist in a gesture to get him to go on.

"I mean, how could I be wasting my time when h-" Ouma cut himself off with a harsh choke, his face turning red as he held back from coughing. It worked for the most part, only allowing a few consecutive bursts past his throat. It looked way more painful blocking it than just simply coughing would have been. He cleared his throat, then shook his head dismissively. "Nevermind."

"That's hardly comforting," Amami deadpanned, though his face showed the concern that his voice lacked.

"Wasn't meant to be!" Ouma smiled up at him, just as he always did when things started looking down. It didn't matter if they were bad for him or bad for someone else, he always found a way to make misery seem like his humor. It would honestly be interesting to watch if it just wasn't so off putting.

"You're impossible," he settled, closing his eyes momentarily with a quiet exhale. "Can't you go one minute without putting up that act?"

"Hmmm?"

Amami cracked open his eyes. "Don't play dumb with me," he said bluntly.

Ouma just laughed in his face, his shoulders bouncing almost theatrically. "But you know how much I love to play with you, Amami!"

"That's not what I mean and you know it. Is it so much to ask for you to be honest for once in your life?"

"Maybe it is?"

Amami blew warm air from his nose in frustration; this wasn't getting him anywhere anytime soon. As much as he loved spending his time learning more about Ouma and seeing his daily antics, never being able to crack the code behind his patterns of honesty- or lack thereof- was annoying. Not even Saihara was able to figure him out, which made Amami feel as if no one was ever going to know besides the masked man himself. It wracked at his brain so often, he could almost mark it off as a slight obsession. But, of course, that was an overreaction since he was just curious about the guy. 

He watched Ouma's face carefully, finding nothing that really helped him. So, naturally, he just followed the gut instinct that he, frankly, overused at this point. "Why?"

Ouma didn't respond immediately, his eyes following Amami's lips for just a second. "I've told you a million times now, come onnn! Do you not listen when I speak?"

"Can't say that I always do, no."

"Hmph, that's cold." As if he had any room to talk. "But," he continued with a slightly emphasized sigh, "Fine. I'll indulge you a bit." Amami was a bit surprised at the sudden cooperation, but then again, he did say that he'd already told him this, so it must not be that much help.

Ouma shuffled around, propping his heels up under himself to look Amami in the eyes. He was calm as ever, the only off thing being the warm colour to his usually strikingly pale face. "It's because as long as this killing game never starts, things would be way too boring if I didn't liven it up." 

Amami cringed at his casual approach to their schooling situation. It wasn't abnormal, coming from him, but it never failed to make a situation tense. "Ouma, you know how I-"

"Don't you think so? I mean, the mastermind can't even seem to pull one murder from any of the sixteen of us, clearly someone has to make do." He grinned, eyes glistening as he reached his hands up to grip Amami's shoulders.

He frowned. "We're not-"

"If I just stick to everyone's cliche friendship forever route, what kind of fun would-"

"It's not supposed to be fun!" Amami suddenly shouted, interrupting him and grabbing his wrists. Ouma stopped immediately, his grip loosening as his expression dropped in intensity. "This is a life or death situation and yet you treat it like everyone's honest efforts to get us out of here are a joke. You treat everyone's trust as a joke. It's childish, it's not right, and I just.. Well, I refuse to believe that you actually want to stay here and see it play out." He was stern both in his face and his voice, locking his gaze with Ouma's to get his point across. Nothing short of assault ever seemed to get through to him, but maybe chastisement would. 

It seemed effective enough at first, seeing as Ouma's eyes softened and his mischievous smile got wiped away completely. At least there was some rationality in that head of his somewhere. He sighed, appreciative that he actually listened for once, and pulled his hands away from Ouma's wrists. He didn't like being physical with anyone, especially not him, but the sudden gesture was mostly meant for emphasis. 

He let out a sigh, glancing over the poorly hidden- or perhaps forced- guilt written all over his face. Fake or not, Amami was a sucker who had a hard time staying mad at him. "Look, you know that I don't like-"

Amami stopped dead in his tracks, watching as Ouma doubled over into his chest with a disgusting grunt. "...Ouma?" he asked hesitantly, resting his hand against the top of the leader's head. "What did you-" He swore his heart skipped a beat as he was interrupted again, this time a few small, brightly coloured petals fluttering into his lap. Tiny droplets of blood were stuck to the edges just until they hit his legs, the deep colour seeping slowly, almost as if in slow motion, into the tanned fabric.

Ouma continued to hack and sputter, his face hidden from his friend as he literally choked on his own feelings. Amami felt like a deer in headlights, not having any clue of what he was supposed to do. Did that mean he was Ouma's special person, or was this another one of his fits that he mentioned?

He placed his hand on Ouma's back, gently running his fingers in between his shoulder blades. There wasn't anything he could do to help, unfortunately, so he just sat and watched the scene unfold.

A few minutes passed before Ouma had calmed down to a wheeze, and he clutched his fists into Amami's shirt. He didn't take any initiative to move away from Amami's chest, instead just regaining his breath whilst avoiding getting blood all over his peer's clothes. Or at least more than was already there. They sat like that for a long while, the stillness of the air beginning to get uncomfortable. Amami's hand hesitated, but pulled away and back onto the bed to shift himself slightly, just enough to help break the atmosphere.

"Hey... What happened?" Ouma's shoulders tensed ever so slightly at the question, but as expected he popped up with a huge grin painting his features. Only this time, there was a pink stain to his teeth, as well as some of the same blood trailing down his chin.

"One of my coughing spells!" he reasoned, glancing down to start plucking petals off of Amami's legs. But, Amami grabbed his wrist again, only this time it was rather gentle. Ouma turned his attention up towards him, offering a confused look. "I was just cleaning up?"

Amami caught his bottom lip in between his teeth, letting his head get a chance to catch up to what he was actually doing. "I know, but.. Are you sure it was just a spell?"

"What do you mean? Of course it was!"

"Kokichi, can you promise me that?" Ouma's playful exterior slowly melted away with the use of his name, only to be left with subtly wide eyes with a vacant stare. His gaze was glued to Amami, and then he let it fall as he knit his brow.

He didn't say anything for a second, but ultimately shook his head. "No, it- he-.." He was stumbling over himself, and cursed under his breath for stammering. "You," he corrected finally, picking up his head to make eye contact again. "Were angry at me, so it made them come up."

Amami was honestly speechless for the first time in a long time. A small, smug even, part of him decided that this was an obvious conclusion, but the other majority of his head didn't know how to react. "So, does that mean that I'm..?" he mumbled, half to himself. Luckily, Ouma picked up where he left off with an eager nod. "Ah."

Ouma cocked his head, reaching up with his free hand to play with the collar of his shirt. "And what's that reaction supposed to mean, exactly?"

It took him a moment, but Amami eventually just chuckled quietly, closing his eyes with a huff. "I guess I'm flattered- should I be?"

"Of course you should! Imagine it- the Ultimate Supre-"

He was quieted by a finger to his mouth, the mystery student before him still purring with small laughter. "I get it. Can you just say it properly?"

Ouma let go of the fabric, his fingers scratching lightly at his own palm as he wiped the blood off of his face carelessly. His expression was unreadable, but there was no way for him to hide the flushed colour of his cheeks. 

"Just.. for the love of God, just kiss me." And so, the wall came crumbling down.

Amami felt as though his heart just burst from his chest, but stayed visibly composed as he leaned down to press their lips together. 

And, just as they came together, the chime of an announcement came to life. "Unfortunately or fortunately- or fortunately, I'm not quite sure- our lovely infected student has managed to complete his motive. Meet in the gymnasium for a new one to be assigned."

As the two of them parted, Ouma quickly snatched up the flower petals that were scattered across the other's lap. He held them up, despite being damp and gross, and smiled. "They were for you all along, what a shock!" he jested, transferring them all to one of his palms as he once again let himself be more sincere. "..Can you promise me something?"

Amami carefully pressed his fingers against Ouma's hand to lower it out of his face, deciding to look at him instead of his flowers. "And what's that?"

"Don't leave me. Please." Amami couldn't help but to smile, his other hand snaking over to intertwine with Ouma's free one with a reassuring squeeze. He was still shaky on if he genuinely loved Ouma yet or not, but luckily there was one thing he could be sure of:

"I won't, I promise."