Hope for The End (Book 3)

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Makoto Naegi was waiting in his cell. This cell had been his home for a full 61 days and counting, Not that he could tell time too well but he figured keeping track could help him ease his mind a bit. He laughed to himself. Everything was so predictable these days. Junko had taught him well.

A familiar sound rang in his ears.

The door. It isn't food time, perhaps interrogation is early today.

This was not the first time they had been early. Times seemed to shift regularly, perhaps in an attempt to catch him off guard. Their attempts were pointless however, as Makoto was hardly surprised by anything anymore.

The idiot Detective would come along, sit down, ask him questions, tell him about feelings, etc, etc. To Makoto it was all just a bunch of bullshit. Feelings could fuck off. They weren't important to him.

However, acting was different. Acting was everything. Pretend to be upset, happy, annoyed, scared, empathetic. That was important. Let people think you were human. So everyday as that Detective-wannabe came in he smiled and pretended to be rotting away.

However eventually he ran back into despair. Unable to control his nonstop mumbling. It would escalate sometimes into shouting matches and the shaking of steel bars before a terrified Shuichi speed walked out of the room.

"Despair is all that is worthy! My friends.. noble sacrifices! It allowed me to open up my eyes! To see the truth! Despair is the only good in this world! Don't you see it? DESPAIR IS THE ONLY HOPE THIS WORLD HAS!'

Shouting on and on and on. How could he not realize how good Despair felt? Being stabbed repeatedly over and over. The adrenaline. The power. The despair in the culprits eyes being dragged away by a chain. A manipulative bear laughing a maniacal scream.

Clank, Clank, Clank.

Learn a lesson or two, blast off! Get crushed. Burn! Die and feel the despair! Let it gush through the blood flowing out of your body!

CLANK. CLANK. CLANK.

Puhuhuhuhuhuhuhuhu...!

"Makoto!"

Pairs of feet. Pairs of feet? That voice...

CLANK, CLANK, CLANK, CLANK, CLANK

"Somebody get a doctor or something! We gotta help him!"

Something grabbed Makoto's head in an iron grip and he came back to reality. His vision was blurry. Pain seared the back of his head. He hadn't realized he'd been smashing his own head against the wall. He strained his sockets just to get a glimpse of a red shape flowing down the wall. his own blood. He smiled at the sight.

"Oh god, Makoto are you okay?"

That voice again...

The smile slipped off of his face as he turned to stare into those familiar blue orbs of color. His vision slowly faded away and everything went dark.

"Makoto! Makoto, answer me!" Aoi shouted at him, shaking him by the shoulders.

"Asahina there isno need. I've called for someone who can help him," Kyoko urged Aoi, "For now we need to make sure he doesn't lose more blood than he already has."

Aoi propped Makoto forward slightly. "God, what has happened to him? You guys have just been keeping him in a prison cell?!"

Kyoko didn't respond. She only stared at the wall.

"Kyoko, this is no time to ignore me!" Aoi argued at her, "Aren't you the one who says we shouldn't keep secrets from each other?"

More silence. Aoi was getting frustrated at Kyoko's silence. She was about to yell at her again when someone entered the room hastily, with medical supplies.