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When Shuichi is ten years old, his uncle takes him to a shooting range. He stands next to him and steady his hands, preparing him for the recoil.
Leveling the gun at a dummy had sent panic and nausea through his body, zipping around even as his uncle comforted him. Leveling a gun at Kaito and the Monokuma attacking him felt so much more sickening.
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When Kaito becomes aware that he's stopped working, he pinches the bridge of his nose. He's stressed because of his upcoming science exam. He's good at it, he knows that but the underlying itch to make sure he gets an A has pushed him into an all nighter. He looks back up and focuses on his study partner; Shuichi, who's definitely not half asleep.
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"I'm sorry,” Shuichi’s voice breaks, he clears his throat, tears gathering in his eyes. He tries to find his words, his hands wavering in the air. “What are you apologizing for?” Kaito asks, the aggressiveness in his voice makes Shuichi fully look at him, confusion swirling in his eyes, “You just did what she asked,”
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“If I've let you watch this far, I'm dead right?” He spits out the word, like he was listing a failure, “Don't worry, I'm not that stupid, just stupid enough to die to some cough,” Shuichi feels a spark of anger, he knows Kaito is frustrated with the idea of himself dying but he hates the way he talks about himself. Kaito was a victim of terrible circumstances, this was like listening to the sun hate itself for running out of hydrogen and imploding.
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