The Tale Of Ouma Kokichi
November 14th 20XX
Tojo Kirumi

There was once a group called DICE in my school. They had been there for as long as I could've remembered, but if we are to name specifics it was in the fall of 20XX, or when I was nine years olds.

That was when Ouma Kokichi came into our lives. Even to this day I remember the look in his eyes, there was such an abundance of life in them. Youthful energy that competed with the sun, and he introduced himself as a leader. Or to quote, a supreme leader.

I would have laughed if not for the sincere serious way he proudly declared that to us all. He seemed to have no regard for where he was or the eyes that watched him. Unapologetically himself to the highest regards, even back then I recognized the life and normal routine I had lived before would forever change.

But DICE wasn't just Ouma, nine other classmates made up our infamous group.

Before they were just unfortunately quiet and introverted groups of children. Ones rarely pulled into events and blended into the nameless background of the classroom.

The day after Ouma had arrived, it was the day we truly met them. The next day our class was covered in plastic bottles.

It was strange and unclear why this had happened, and when our teacher had walked in she was alarmed and was quick to interrogate us all to find the culprit.

The culprits came in with checkered scarves and proud smirks. It didn't take a genius to figure it out, and while they were always punished time and time again they always rose to come up with new pranks and new ways to shock us all.

Back then it did irritate me on occasion when the target happened to be me. But I will be the first to say it was rarely malicious, more of a small minor yet always amusing inconvenience.

I could list on one hand the times they went too far, and one was a lie.

The first was when our school had been graffitied with spray paint and eggs by other students. The next day those students found their desks on the roof, their shoes replaced with clown ones, their hair dyed pink and feathered.

Safe to say the incident never occurred.

The next was a particular nuisance, a textbook case of a school bully. That young man found himself one day with a rigged contraption firing spicy mayo into his face.

When he didn't learn his lesson the first time, the second punishment was his gym clothes replaced with a floor-length ballgown.

I'm honored to say I was given a replica by one of them on my birthday that year when I was awed by the craftsmanship, only to discover one of them had made it.

I still had that gown, it's my pride and joy. It's what brings such pain to my heart when I remember what happened.

The fourth time was the beginning of the end, while not inflicted on the school this was their true act of vandalism. A small convenience store had been destroyed, I was horrified when I discovered they were the ones who committed that act.

Fear consumed me, that this would become the new norm. It didn't help they had picked up smoking or were rumored to be drinkers and addicts. Part of me mourned that day for the young childish pranks I had come to admire.

Instead, I should've been horrified as to why they had done it. A far greater crime had been committed, and a crime against a girl who was just fourteen years old.

A crime he was only punished for, years later. A crime only exposed years later.

The last one, the lie, occurred shortly after.

My school was set on fire. That was the same day they had organized a party for us all, to say goodbye to our youth and approach high school together.

Only one made it.

I wasn't there that day, I watched it on the news. What words could describe the fear I had for those who did attend the party? That next day, our class was ripped and severed in a way no words would ever do it justice.

That was the day DICE died. That was the day the Ouma Kokichi I knew died.

He had been rendered blind, lost feeling in one of his legs, and became confined to a wheelchair. That was what was physically wrong with him. If you had looked into those eyes though, it was as if some great darkness or void had consumed that light.

Some force had cleaved his soul and left behind an imposter. A boy with dull eyes, a skittish and sullen husk. One that never uttered a word, or seemed to register the world around him, he was known as the boy with the blank stare.

This story I wish had a happy ending. It deserved one truly. The truth was revealed to me this year, and every day I want to turn back time, not just to change the events of that day but to reverse every moment I left that boy to suffer alone.

But I didn't. To this day I wonder why my heart throbs with regret. But that cannot undo my actions nor the past, so instead, I apologize to the boy who sat near the window.

I apologize to the boy who once ran wild inside of our school, with an unbound spirit and eyes of life.

I apologize to the boy who was rendered shattered beyond belief, a boy no one ever believed would wake up. Someone we always underestimated, even in the best of scenarios.

I apologize to that child who never saw the day the world discovered the truth about his friends' murder.

Ouma went missing this year. Months before the case was widespread and known, the case still not closed as I write this.

If he is still alive, I wish he would return to us soon, so he can be presented with the world he deserves.

A world that won't shun him, harass him, and convict him for crimes long in the past. But instead, one that will embrace him with open arms, and apologize for what it has done. A world that will vow to do better.

I hope for a better ending.

Star Prodigy Upcoming Detective
March 13th 20XX
Riyoko Mei

If you were to tell me that just a short six months prior I would turn on my TV to see an eight-year murder case solved by a seventeen-year-old, I never would have believed you.

I wouldn't have dreamt of long dropped cases being revived and brought closure to suffering families all across the country, I would not have believed that a school just a block from me would prioritize monetary wealth over the lives of their students in the most important way possible.

It's safe to say the world was not ready for Saihara Shuichi. As a third-year student, he has already taken not only Japan but the world by storm.

It's with great shame that I have to admit the failure of my colleagues and the blind way we've often denounced the young detective at the starting reveal of his case.

To me, it was simply impossible that the events he described could ever be reality. That such murder cases laid right beneath our feet and targeting the heart of our country, the youth, for ideals of perfection with those who fall short sentenced to death. How could we? When such a tragedy must've been woven by writers, its reality is more cruel and bleak than any other report I ever wrote and will ever write.

I was on the side of my well-experienced colleagues, asking for proof and evidence. And just like them, I was stunned by the little details, the tiny threads that wove these cases and cemented in my heart and mind one truth.

Saihara Shuichi was right.

Though skeptics remain with every case revealed to the public, with every conviction history is being made. History is being revealed, and he is at the head of it.

While the burden of such a future lies on such young shoulders, I feel more than confident in him.

The world is not ready for the great things that Saihara shall accomplish, and I say this with confidence that whatever comes from the end of these cases that I will back and support this young youth.

We all should, not just our star prodigy but the next generation. Far too often we look down on the youth, we see them as naive and blind to the harsh realities of our society. Yet here we are being blind to the world we manufactured for them.

It's time to have faith in our youth, to protect and guide them rather than shun and ostracize them.

For the ones who have died, for the ones who were left behind, for those yet to be born, don't we owe that to them?

Interview with Saihara Shuichi
July 30th 20XX

"Good evening! And might I say how honored I am to have you here tonight" she cheerfully greeted. "Thank you for inviting me..." the young boy nervously said, his eyes kept dotting to the camera with some tiny beads of sweat on his brow.

"Your welcome, well our viewers have sent in many questions for you regarding your recent work. Would you mind answering them for us tonight?" She asked excitedly.

Saihara nodded, as she pulled open a set of notecards, "let's see... the first question is regarding your past, while we all know you grew up the heir of the Saihara detective agency it's strange to say pre your involvement in the School Days Case, your involvement in the public was restricted to name alone. Why is that?" She asked.

"Well, my parents both wanted to keep me out of the public and media till I was old enough to handle the public. Due to some family matters I don't want to comment on, it ended up lasting longer. Believe me, though my life wasn't this eventful before" Saihara assured.

"Means you deserve much more praise then!  Being able to jump in headfirst to a case such as this was very brave of you. Glad you also allowed us to spend some time getting to know and understand our young detective" the interviewer praised, her eyes filled with pride.

"Not sure about that, I've just been put in the position where I can make a difference. Some of Ouma's friends did know as well, about the truth, but they were placed in a tough position and we're too young at the time to do much without putting Ouma or themselves and their families in danger. I just was luckier, I didn't have to be in direct danger." Saihara admitted his voice lined with bitter resentment, as they cupped their hands tightly together as if warding off stress or anxiety.

"How long did you know Ouma before the reveal though? We've heard so little about the two of you, only his story" the interviewer asked curiously. Saihara sighed in relief as if he was finally approaching a safer topic. "We knew each other for a couple of months before he told me the truth, I don't know if we were truly friends. It was such a brief time, yet I also never felt that close to someone before. Sorry, I don't really know how to explain, I just...I miss him. Once again, please if anyone has any information on what might have happened to him, or any ideas on where he is right now please contact the police and come forward. Every bit helps"  Saihara quickly pleaded, the interviewer seemed shocked by the vulnerability but shared a comforting smile.

"I'm sure Ouma would have thanked you for all your efforts, he is a very strong young man to have made it through all those years. We're all glad that he was able to tell his story before his disappearance, and we at the studio also agree with Saihara. Please if you have any information, do not be afraid to turn it in to the police." the interviewer agreed.

"I don't need thanks, I just did what had to and should have been done. If anything I should be admonished for all the things I haven't done yet, for all the cases I might have missed still. Every day hundreds more even back from the last century come in, and yet I feel like so many more are still left in the dust. I can only apologize to those victims who might in the end still be forgotten about and ignored, as we as a country and the law force work to bring closure and justice for all the past and present cases." Saihara corrected, despite his young age and clearly tense behavior during the interview it was clear to the audience the maturity he had, along with his modest spirit.

~-~-~-~

Saihara's POV:

"I didn't think the media would be so obsessed with you Saihara" Harukawa admitted as the two walked out of the subway. I was wearing a large jacket along with a face mask and sunglasses to avoid any public attention.

"Neither did I, rarely does this ever happen. Usually, the detective cases my family does would get some small attentions, we have some people who follow his work because of crime podcasts, but never anything to the scale of this. It even intimidated my father" I admitted, it was strange seeing a usually calm and reserved man crumble under the number of requests from the media to talk about the case.

I had rejected more than 80% of them.

Most of the media had just wanted to describe the potential love affair I had with Ouma, romanticizing our friendship and involvement with one another. When in reality our bond never reached that kind of intimacy, it made me still feel like a liar when I did describe us as friends. Still, part of me was also embarrassed because they were slightly right. I did have a crush on Ouma before he disappeared.

Yet those feelings, just like the memories of his rare smile, the way his eyes always had that far-off look, the way he did make those rare jokes we're fading with my mind to time. Our lives intertwined in a brief passing glance, just like my feelings for him. Before we could reflect on our bond properly we were separated, and it left me wondering even now what could've been had I just remained by his side.

Had we just stayed together, I wonder what could've been.

"I would've hated this attention, some people already have figured out though. My involvement, some people come outside the orphanage and stage protests. They call me a murderer or a monster. Some try and hug me, it's weird."  she vented, "they're harassing you?" I asked, worry overcame me, Haruakwa didn't seem annoyed though and her stance only added more concern that this new attention had become her new norm. 

"You didn't do anything wrong, you tried to keep Kaito and my identity a secret but...it was only a matter of time till people connected the dots," Haruakwa said, as she fumbled with the small box she was holding. The soft pastel colors contrasted heavily with the deep-set despair in Harukawa's eyes and clothing, she was wearing a dark almost black shade of purple.

"Still, there was probably more I could've done, more I could've done to help you during this time..." I apologized, as self-loathing once again crept into my mind. It seemed to be transforming, that hatred seemed to always change with whatever fears my mind held most important as if it needed to constantly improve itself.

"If you did more it would've been you telling them yourself, there was nothing you could've done alright? Kaito knew that...he wasn't angry with you either" she added for extra measure, as we passed through the large gate overhead. "I'm sorry..." I mumbled, a half-hearted apology 

Harukawa seemed tired of my apologies, as she broke rank and walked ahead of me, her shoulders were hunched over, and instead of her usual twin ponytails she instead had cut her hair in a short almost pixie style, it was messy and clearly not well kept. She finally approached him and kneeled before the site as she unboxed the cake and placed it as an offering, along with asters.

An offering for Kaito Momota. 

I felt like an intruder for such an intimate moment, as Haruakwa remained in silence. Her eyes open as she looked forward at Momota's grave, as she held her hands tightly fighting off a cold chill, despite the abnormally warm weather. Her eyes were red and puffy yet she refused to shed a single tear, it almost seemed like she was imagining the day he left the school to the hospital. 

Momota had died just three months prior, marking the year Ouma had gone missing. It was strange to think that we were all adults now, graduated from high school. The doubt in my heart wondered if Ouma was still alive and if he knew this as well.

Momota had been in a coma for most of those months, his disease had wrecked his body beyond belief where just being awake was an agonizing experience for him...till the day his grandparents with heavy tears let their grandson pass on. 

Harukawa had been there every single day, I know she was no matter how she never answered that question. I knew she was there when Momota slipped from this world, I knew she would never cry right now despite probably wanting to just because she knew I was here. That made me feel guilty, she deserved to cry.

"You're going to find Ouma" Haruakwa finally said, breaking the silence. "Whether it be his body, or something else," she said as horror filled me as that possibility once again reared its ugly head.

"He'll be ok-" I tried to argue, but she finally glared at me, a small rebellious tear falling down her face. "Don't give me hope, don't give me hope that doesn't exist...Kaito died not knowing what happened to Ouma. So you need to find him so Kaito can rest in peace, I know he won't leave till someone tells him where Ouma is...so please...just find him...I'm sure Kaito is tired of waiting...and so am I" Haruakwa ordered with a  dry and raspy voice.

If I had been stronger, maybe I would've been able to keep denying what she was saying. The truth she so heavily needed to be real, that her heart couldn't bear to think of anything else. For the crumbling sanity she still heavily guarded. Maybe this was what she would see as me truly apologizing, a true way to atone for the havoc I brought onto her life. I needed to confirm the reality she wanted, so she could start to think of what to do with her life now, she needed to move on but only after she was sure Momota moved on with her.

"I'll find him" I promised, but I don't think she heard me over her sobs.