The spiral.

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This always happened. This happened every single night for Hajime.
Night time was terrifying to him, filled with paranoia and violence. A killing game where any time of the day can bring murder. Hajime knew that, he knew that way too well.
And it affected him.
He started to think thoughts he didn't want to. He stared at his considered 'classmates' and 'friends' and wondered how it'd be like to feel their lifeless corpse. How it'd feel like to wrap his hands around Nagito's neck. How it'd feel like to bash Kazuichi's head in. How it'd feel like to beat Mikan until the point of death.
He hated those thoughts. He didn't want to think about them. He didn't want to know what Teruteru would taste like. He didn't want to know how easy Hiyoko would be to drown. He didn't want to wonder about the things he could do, how he could get away with them.
He didn't want to feel worry about what he might do. What others may do. He didn't want to sit in his room, staring at the floor as he subtly rocked back and forth.
He never wanted this.
He was an average guy. One you'd find anywhere. He didn't know his talent, he didn't know what was special about him. He just wanted a normal successful life.
But he was dragged into this.
He was dragged into a cycle of endless paranoia. A cycle of witnessing bodies of victims. A cycle of having thoughts that made him terrified of himself. He hated thinking about things that he could do to himself.
How easy it would be to go out in the night. To grab a knife and stab himself. To drown himself. To do so many things that'd make him CRY.
He wanted nothing to do with them.
He wanted to get off of this island.
He didn't want to interact with anyone anymore.
He wanted to be alone.
It was terrifying alone.
He wanted everything gone.
He wanted everything to stop.
He wanted to talk about it.
He was too afraid to or felt like he'd do it too many times.
He left randomly and heard people worry about him.
He wanted people to worry. He wanted people to notice. He wanted them to force it out of him. To make him say it.
To tell them every disgusting thought he had. To tell them his fear. To tell them repeatedly until it stopped bothering him.
To get better. To seek out for help. To make this stop.
Nothing.
How could he ever stop it? He wasn't anything special. He had no point to be here.
Maybe he didn't even have a talent.
Maybe he was useless.
...
No those thoughts are stupid. They make him look like he was attention seeking. He can't say that. It's stupid.
He just has to deal with it.
Hope that one day he'll be alright. That he'll life.
And that it'll all stop for once.

"Your thoughts are such a mess."

"Be quiet, it's what a killing game can do. It's not presented so, unless I missed something."

"So is this the end?"

"Possibly. The simulation has ended. The survivors have been recycled and their previous memories were returned."

"What about what happened during the Tragedy? What about the wasted ones, y'know?"

"The memories of the killing game were not deleted. The memories pf the Tragedy were deleted so the victims and culprits wouldn't be affected by despair again."

"So they don't know?"

"Don't know what?"

"The reruns. You've went through a lot have you not?"

"My existence is unimportant to them. I am a part of the Tragedy, they will not remember me."

"What about me?"

"You're a virus. You will be locked away here, as for I... I'm unsure so far."

"And what about the reserve?"

"Him? I'll continue to be a part of him, but I will have no affect on his life."

"Is there no hope for you? Aren't you—"

"The Ultimate Hope? Yes. I am indeed. My existence was forced upon him, no knowledge of me was given to him. He will not know."

"So you're a parasite?"

"A far better one than you."

"...So this is it."

"These thoughts are not a part of the game."

"Not that you dumbass. This is all of what people will know?"

"For now. It's an awful story."

"They'll have to remember at some point."

"The Future Foundation... Or well YOUR killing game's survivors will have to prevent that."

"You can run away from despair."

"But you can blind it away with hope."

"I guess I admit defeat then. But the games are not over."

"I'm aware."

"Goodnight."

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