Summary: You had to wonder, was he looking at you or your lunch?

To this day, you couldn't fathom how Kokichi was able to see anything through that monstrous hair of his. With the playful breeze that caressed the back of your neck and sent a shiver down your back, you thought you could hear his purple locks brush against each other as the wind slithered through them.

"I don't get how you're not uncomfortable." The words tumbled from your lips along with a few grains of rice and spit. You pocketed as much as you could into your cheeks, bloating them out but also obstructing your speech less. "Like, I know you gotta have to tie your hair up a lot, right?"

Below you, Kokichi's' head lolled against your thighs and he shifted. You were keen to the fact that he was observing you rather intently; dangerously, at that, yet chose to keep your eyes floating around the trees looming across the park and the cellular towers dotting the darkening sky with red light.

"Nah~ I've gotten used to it! Besides, at least I got more sense of style than you do, [Nickname]." He said this to keep the conversation going, but you could just feel his intent searing into you. These instances made you feel as though peripheral view was a flaw to the human species, as you could still his face contorting below, lips jutting forward in what you could only guess was his half-assed pout.

A burdened sigh came as you plucked a sausage from your lunchbox, the tiny smile and tentacles carved into it made it too cute to eat. Kokichi, however, had a qualm with how long it was taking you to relent.

His hand shot up and cuffed over yours, guiding your chopsticks to his mouth wherein a satisfied smile sprawled across his face. "Man, those things were my favorite when I was a kid! Got any chicken in there? Gimme another bite."

Your chopsticks gave a threatening clink as you snipped them together. "I'll pinch your nose, don't think I won't. You can't have my chicken, I'll give you more sausages, though."

"What if I don't want your sausages?"

With a shrug, you popped one in your mouth. "That's a you problem, buddy."

That answer seemed to suffice when you noticed his chest fall sharply, though he looked strangely content when he peered up at you with a tilted smile. He threaded his fingers on his stomach, lips twitching every so often when you fed him the next morsel.

And for a time, as you crammed food in his mouth to sate his hunger and keep him from spewing the next ridiculous thing, there was peace. You dared to believe that you were enjoying the moment, and you were able to imagine running your fingers through his hair–

"Hey, I just got an idea." He cleared his throat after a bite, a cheeky smile forming on his face. "You should feed me from you mouth, too!"

With a placid smile, you pinched his nose with your chopsticks, reveling in his shrieks of agony.