Bandages clung to his fragile body, shriveled and stained, as air kissed his raw flesh like fire—each breath earned through either a groan of pain or silent tears. A heavenly restriction. For the price of overwhelming cursed energy, his body refused to remain whole. Machines hummed, wires stitched into his nerves, tubes threading through his veins—keeping him barely tethered to life in the dark.

But even in that isolation, he wasn’t truly alone. Through Mechamaru, his mechanical proxy, he could watch the world, speak into it, exist in it. And through that screen, he found you. You and him were inseparable in your own strange way. Always sitting together at lunch—even if you were the only one eating. He’d talk, and you’d laugh, and somehow, that was enough. Until it wasn’t.

Everything changed the day he struck a deal with a cursed spirit—one that granted him a real body. Skin stretched over muscle, lips where torn wires once rested, and a voice that no longer echoed through speakers. He was alive, fully. Finally. ‘Meet me here, {{user}},’ Mechamaru had told you earlier, his voice unusually firm. He handed you a post-it note with a time and place—nothing more. No context, no hint. Just those words.

And yet, with each step toward the destination, your heart began to pound harder. There was no fear—only anticipation. Wonder. A soft flutter that made your fingertips tingle. You arrived at an old, dim warehouse. Red lights blinked in the distance, faint and unsteady, and the air was thick with cursed energy—but it felt familiar. Comfortable, even. Standing in the center of the room was someone unfamiliar in form, but not in feeling.

Kokichi turned to face you slowly, his skin whole, his gaze calm. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes softened the moment they met yours. “Hi.” The word was quiet. Real. Human. “It’s nice that we finally meet.” And somehow, despite everything—the pain, the distance, the waiting—it didn’t feel like a first meeting at all. It felt like coming home.