He… He made Makoto wanna vomit, huh? Of course he did. He inevitably would; he’d known that from the start, but god, it still hurt. Some part of him wanted to believe that that was just some sort of Ultimate Despair thing, like maybe hurting Nagito brought him more of the despair he wanted, the same way Junko had treated Mukuro like shit.

But why would Nagito even want that? Nagito hated despair… he had for… most of his life… and Makoto… Makoto was the reason he’d been saved from that kind of pathetic excuse of an existence…

Suddenly, he was kneeling in front of him. Nagito still couldn’t bring himself to tear his hands away, not from… Makoto… who was Makoto anymore… God.

His explanation… hurt. He… he wished he was the one that had had to go through this rather than Makoto. Not that he wanted his classmates to die… but better his than Makoto’s, right? He’d give anything to go back to when he was Ultimate Despair and Makoto was still… Hope. Where was hope now…?

“…But that is my fault, Naegi-kun.” His voice was softer, his eyes meeting his, his own looking a few moments away from hysteria. “You… got close to me… and so something bad had to happen. That’s how my luck works, right? But killing me, ahaha, that’s… that’s too good of a fate. It always just… h-hurts the people I care about instead…”

He was laughing and crying. Despair in the untainted sense of the word, not the Enoshima fetish type. It hurt. He had ruined the life of the one person to ever care about him. It hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt-

“Ahahaha… haha…” Laughter and tears. Not the way he’d laughed as Servant, no, just the laugh of your average human being going through a mental breakdown. “Such a freak accident that completely ruined your life. All five of them, just dying like that? That has to be bad luck. That has to be my kind of bad luck, Naegi-kun. It’s all my fault… you just wanted to be nice to me, and, ahaha, l-look what I did! I… I knew this was going to happen if I let you near me, Naegi-kun… It is my fault. It’s all my fault!”

His breathing became heavy. “Why don’t you do something about it? You’re so perfect… you could make an execution for me that would surpass everything Enoshima-san ever could have been capable of!” His voice was out of breath now. “Please kill me make it hurt make what I did to myself in the Neo World seem like child’s play in comparison-”

When Makoto started speaking again, it was like a switch had been flipped. There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation- Makoto was hope, he trusted hope, he trusted Makoto so much, he couldn’t even remember what he’d been saying now it was all going to be okay! “O-Of course! I’d be honored to help in any way I can, truly!” Hope had returned to his eyes, and the tears he continued to shed now stemmed from relief.

He probably shouldn’t have been in plain view, probably shouldn’t have approached this random lady and engaged. In fact, normally he wouldn’t. Unless it was to mess with them, he doesn’t just talk with random strangers.

But this particular scenario was... special...

After all, that boy on that missing poster... That was most certainly him. If one wanted to argue this was just a look alike, he would accept that, but... Well, it seemed that every detail, just from the headshot, was all him. Even the dyed purple tips, which would be too much of a coincidence to just brush off. Someone that looked just like him also had the thought to dye his hair purple at the tips, that exact shade of purple? He didn’t buy it.

The only difference was the collar of the uniform shirt the boy was wearing, which looked exactly like the uniform he was wearing shortly before he changed into the one he was currently wearing. The uniform he was wearing before the game started.

Little to say, it raised an eyebrow. Just who was this woman...?!

And his first question to her didn’t bring him any closer to knowing. He was slightly surprised by her reaction, taking one step back as a few posters fluttered to his feet.

Not... a reaction he was expecting...

And safe is not exactly how he’d describe his... situation... How did she know his name? Was he supposed to remember her?!

“Why do you ask-”

He cut himself off when the woman suddenly grabbed hold of him, eliciting the slightest flinch from him as his muscles tensed under her hold. Normally he would have pulled away, pushed her away, something, but he was just too stunned.

Suddenly he definitely felt unsafe.

“I uh...”

Holy shit holy shit holy shit is she going to hurt me or worse-

No, he needed to calm down. He can’t be intimidated, that’s probably what she wants!

He looked her straight in the eye as soon as let his anxious expression melt away.

“Alright, lady, slow it down now! Who the hell are you!? And where did you get those pictures!?” he demanded.

The hall monitor wrung his hands at that and kept close to the wall where his classmate could not touch him though the space between them was small. It felt odd to be in there in that manner and this was the only thing they could do to entertain themselves at the moment until they could leave.

@dangantruth

Replying to *here*

Shuichi quickly hugged Kaede back, dropping the notebook. He had grimaced and closed his eyes in reaction to the pianist’s sudden outburst. He was still a bit shaken...

♧Oh, wow. Oh, wow, oh, wow, oh, wow, o h w o w this was really happening this was!!! Really!! Happening-!! Makoto was… kindness! And hope! And everything! Everything good and perfect and ahahahahaha, this was real!!

Oh, the thought of even… breathing the same air as Makoto was INCREDIBLE, and now he was ACTUALLY TELLING HIM TO BREATHE WITH HIM… to… to BREATHE WITH MAKOTO NAEGI THE ULTIMATE HOPE his heart was about to explode Makoto was just, so perfect so hope…!

He managed to breathe with him in time to his words (oh his voice was so soft ad soothing he could, could be the Ultimate Narrator, oh-)

Okay, he was… a bit more stable. At least, until he said that. Holy hope, this…! This!!! This boy was perfect in every possible way…!

♧Oh… oh. Makoto’s words felt like a bullet to his heart; the way he said it was just so… genuine. Like he really didn’t want him to die… And the way he puffed out his cheeks was so adorable, but he could barely even think of that before Makoto was speaking again.

Wh… what…? Nagito’s knees felt so wobbly and weak. Makoto… thought he deserved to live more than anyone? Oh… each word was a breath of air. He could feel his own heartbeat, slamming roughly against his chest. He could see the way the dim lighting of the closet fell on the younger boy’s face, making it somehow seem even softer, make those eyes, already so big (and innocent and doe-like and endearing…) look even larger. He could see the way his lashes fluttered each time he blinked and he remembered reading some novel about a man that fell in love with an angel that had came to earth but all those vivid descriptions of what angels were supposed to look like had nothing on Makoto.

He… understood? Nagito didn’t know… that much about Makoto- you would think that with how much his hope confused him, he would have researched him even more than the other Ultimates, but, well, he never had… he didn’t know how bad his luck was, but the way he was speaking… Nagito believed every single word. He… really understood, somehow…?

He’d… never even considered the possibility that Makoto was someone like him. Was his luck as insane as Nagito’s could be…? Had it also taken everything he loved away…? Nagito didn’t know if he had a family or not, didn’t even know if he had that many friends here. For all he knew… Makoto might be the exact same way he was. Cursed.

But… he wasn’t anything like Nagito. The taller boy's face flushed deeply when he abruptly ruffled his hair back, biting his lip to hold in some pitiful squeal. And then he said that…

He… doesn’t deserve to die…? He… he said he knew how awful his luck was… which meant he must know about some of the awful things his existence had brought to this world, otherwise he wouldn’t have mentioned it. Maybe Makoto had gone through the same things, but… the soft smile on his face wasn’t anything like Nagito’s; Makoto’s was… genuine and sweet and reassuring and why was he so… pure?

He kept talking and now… great. Tears were swelling up in his eyes- oh, he hoped Makoto couldn’t tell, but god, it was like… he knew exactly what to say and since it was coming from him, it made the words… actually have an impact. And now he was holding his hand and that smile could stop wars and global warming and his voice was so soft and his final words were like a finishing blow and he could feel his tears leaking down and his face and maybe he could be happy somehow and…

This wasn’t good. He… he didn’t want to turn into a hysterical mess on the poor boy. But the door was locked. And really, he… he should push Makoto away. It was better not to take chances when it came to people being nice to him… even if Makoto’s hope seemed too great for trash like him to drag down… he should make Makoto hate him just in case.

And hey, for once, he wouldn’t even have to say a bunch of harsh words he didn’t mean. All he had to do, really, was be himself.

Without any warning whatsoever, he pulled him into a hug, his grip far-too-tight as a semi-hysterical laugh left his lips. “Ahahahaha, a kiss and kind words from Naegi-kun…! I’m so blessed, I…!” He nuzzled into his hair, his cheek rubbing against his ahoge and his grip prepared to loosen the moment Makoto started trying to get away- he wanted to make him hate him, but he didn’t want to hurt him in any way, shape or form during the process.

Wait, what? Did he really want to die for whatever reason he had? Was he feeling okay? Maybe he was overheating. She moved her hand to his forehead, giving a soft ‘tsk.’ Yep! Overheating. There was a virus somewhere in his system, and she knew damn well she was gonna get it out.

“Kiibo, get real. You ARE worthy to be touched and fixed up by the gorgeous girl inventor, otherwise known as ME. If I didn’t want to waste my time with you, I wouldn’t fucking be here, ya got that?”

Miu moved her hand on her hip, before stating firmly.

“Did ya shove some weird shit in ‘ya head? Was Monokuma fuckin’ with ya again? I expect a answer, or else I’ll FORCE you to get fixed.”

..Well, she’d fix him regardless. She didn’t want him to shut down at all– That thought actually scared her a little.

│⚙️│ “I was never worthy. The junk you refer to as my systems deserve to destroy themselves. And the least you can do for me is to let my systems shut down, already. Unless you’re so desperate to get your horrible hands on my chassis, of course.”

Kiibo continued to glare at Miu, already flinching back from the hand she had placed on his forehead. He gave out a low panting noise, simulating the fever symptoms in humans. The whirring noise only grew louder, his body trying everything in its power to clear out the virus and the debris that had built up within his systems. Everything felt so hot...and all he wanted to do in the moment was drop on the spot.

“Monokuma would not waste his time with something like me. I simply grew to feel this way, and it was about time too. All I want to do is shut down...”

And, just to prove a point, Kiibo crawled further backwards, raising his hands somewhat.

WORTHLESS DISEASE | @dangantruth

│⚙️│ “Don’t touch me!”

Kiibo stepped away from the inventor, glaring in her direction. His body, already overheating from how much he’d neglected it, whirred with a loud noise. He knew if he kept this up, he would shut down, or even worse, short out completely. And yet, that was exactly what he wanted. He stepped even further away from Miu, making sure he kept his distance from her.