Boring, useless peopleās lives are oriented around boring and useless things. The lives of those with talent are like compasses with their specific brand of hope fixed as north. Thatās how he knows his isnāt really a talent. What kind of compass just spins randomly between north and south. No, his compass is fixed where those of any useless person ought to be. To talent. As much as his luck tries to spin it, that alone can be is true north.
Which is to say the sensation he gets is akin to someone turning on a superpower electromagnet. He couldnāt not go if he wanted to. Itās just magnetism.
Everyone else might as well have been translucent blobs. Ā The rest of the world might as well be completely whited out, by the contrast. A single sharp black line in a see of nothing at all. Nagito can feel his heart beat thumbing in every inch of him. His chest, his stomach, his ears, and mostly his throat. Heās going to suffocate.
Standing there, overlooking the ocean on a pier, is a singularity, a collection of fundamental forces strong enough to render the hole in the middle of the city quaint by comparison.
It has to be him. It has to be.
āKamuā¦kura?ā
Heād told Nagito it did not matter which name he used, and at the time, it had seemed okay to call him by the name of that lowly reserve course boy. But that had been. So stupid. He should beg for forgiveness.
Ahā but wouldnāt that beā¦. boring? >>> @pococurantesā
