The Walnut Gallery

Trying my Miu Iruma cosplay before MCM this weekend! https://www.instagram.com/p/B4A4xRJJFZa/?igshid=11z9pss7wyu95

“Wow, this is really happening,” Saihara had practically panted, “I can’t wait but at the same time I want to savour every second here.”

Was everything perfect? It didn’t need to be. It just needed to be good enough to get an audition, he needed to use the audition to reach his goal.

There were plenty of times when Ouma questioned himself, wondered whether it was worth it to keep up his charade all the time.

Things weren’t going to stay like that, he was determined that things would change, that he would change them.

As he thought more about the vague idea of the liar character he and Saihara had begun to consider, he found himself being more drawn in to making his own character.

Would a lying character be anything revolutionary? Lying and hiding the truth have always been rife through the whole series, what would make his character any different?

He almost missed the lie they had before when Ouma believed he was leading Saihara around, instead of the reverse.

People were just waiting to pounce on him. He was in their sights now.

A searing shot ran through him as he thought back about what he knew Momota was capable of, what kind of person he was and all he’d done to him.

He was, most definitely, moping. In his opinion though, he had every right to. What had happened to his life to end up like this? Shuichi Saihara, that’s what happened.

“That was scary for a moment, wasn’t it?” the breathy voice beside him spoke, Ouma remembering all at once how excited Saihara could get just after a body discovery. His body twitched away from the other boy, an involuntary spasm.

After his little performance last time, Saihara would probably have something to say to him. He dreaded anything Saihara could possibly have to do or say after all of that.

“That doesn’t make sense,” Ouma’s response was immediate. Saihara flinched at the speed of the reply.

Was this the feeling that others felt as they pushed him around, hurt him for their own entertainment? It was somewhat exhilarating, but probably different from what they had felt. The thing that made this so exciting was the fear.

When had he become so pathetic? So weak? So soft?

He couldn’t get rid of Saihara yet though, he still knew something. How was he supposed to get that information from the fantasy detective though? Saihara knew he had this up on Ouma.