relapse

  Life used to be so eventful. There was always something new. Fragments of trauma being uncovered layer by layer, memories resurfacing through nightmares, more and more to atone for. There was no break.

  And what now? Nagito had so many distractions upon distractions, but recently they have been taken away from him. Now there is nothing to do but think. Summer depression will really always take a hold of him, huh?

  He wishes he could cry or process or exist. He had blocked out so much that he did not feel like a person. There is nothing now. Nothing. Everything is just an absolute void. It has been a year now of searching for a will to live. But he has come to accept that all good things come to an end. There will be no more tears dwelling over the past, regretting what he did or didn't do, missing what he had and hating himself for not 'living in the present moment' as so popularly preached.

  Unfortunately, there are no plans for him. He does not have a hopeful vision of the future. He is expected to make due with this island and recover the world for the rest of his life. He feels crucial to society with the overwhelming guilt, and he feels an obligation to stay because - how dare he take the easy way out when all those dead were tortured? And so he has made his time here with his classmates being as useful as possible. He made it clear that he never had evil intent. Some took pity, some empathized, some didn't. It wouldn't matter. Not soon. He knows he's been on close watch due to his past suicide. Which is why he's waited this long.

  Well. And maybe he had been waiting on something - or someone - to prove him wrong. But each classmate was just a distraction. He is so close with them, but really they are still at arm's length. He had overshared and never had genuine vulnerability, and through a mess of delusion - he'd convinced them he was fine. Because who, if humanly possible, could keep up with a lie for that long?

  Nagito Komaeda. But it wasn't easy. He had to convince himself of it too. That he was stable, that he was progressing, that these distractions were really worth anything to him. He knows he is just being of use to them. He knows he is doing what he needs to do.

  He has pushed everyone away. He has convinced them he is actually so incredibly unlikable. People have a tendency to grow obsessive or codependent with him. Perhaps it's his manipulation. Maybe his suicidal tendencies draw people in. … He really did start to delude himself into thinking he was getting better. But oh well. The distractions are gone, so his shock should be to no avail.

  There is no point in theorizing. In fact he should not even feel depressed. Things have gone uphill, he's gone through hell and back and yet ended on the biggest uprising, miracle after miracle. But what's the use if he is too traumatized to appreciate it? The others should be grateful. But not him. Never him. Maybe that's okay. Maybe that's not selfish, he just really is different and excluded, he doesn't have any sort of complex he just is.

  He is unable to accept that anyone could see him as more than unbearable, insufferable, annoying, burdening, difficult, self-centered, narcissistic, unempathetic, manipulative, evil, unstable, or impulsive. He knows they might try, but it is only ever out of their selfish views on the world. In a roundabout way - obligation to feel better about themselves. They wouldn't want to be hypocritical.

  He hates just wallowing in his misery, his thoughts are so fucking insufferable, it'd be no surprise that the others find the same. He is tired of waiting to be saved. He hates hate hates the idea of his past self being more productive than the present. Who would've thought you could get jealous of who you used to be? That's so fucked up. That's so annoying, that's so unfair, that's so irrational. From what used to be the main source of attention to now being discarded like a fucking side-character. It's been 3 years. 3 years since the Neo World Program. And his life is eventless. Boring, useless, wasteful, – peaceful? Fuck no. There needs to be something, this can't just be IT. There has to be more, more to this, is he really just a product of his trauma and the past mistakes???

  Is there really nothing left to sort through? The trauma has already been lived, and the aftermath… it should be effective for the rest of his life. So why is it that he feels like a has-been? Why does he feel so empty? Well, of course he would, because he's not currently cleaning up a body or participating in a class trial. His nightmares don't even begin to relive it. He does not want to let go. It was so nearby, it was so close, it was so recent - so why are the months moving by so quickly? Why are his hobbies so out of date now, why can't he have it back, why can't he rewind time, why can't he move on?

  Why can't he live?

  He just can't. He can't. He knows that others would find this type of behavior to be absolutely useless. Ineffective, inconvenient, dramatic, all too common. He is unable to spare himself any pity. He was always meant to die, just blessed with his own timeline as he had gotten from terminally ill to healthy. He no longer feels like an active participant in his own life, he feels like a perspective. An object. No likes or dislikes. Whoever likes him most can have him. He really does not mind. He has drawn back all emotional connections from anyone and everyone. He has cruelly shut himself down again and again and again and he knows this is a useless narrative with such meaningless rambling but he still wants to hope that some guy with a savior complex will step in. He is braindead right now but if they could crawl into his head and control his mind, that would be nice.

  There is no hope for someone who gives up on themselves. There is no point, there is no use, there is no life worth living no matter how he contorts and conforms himself to be. There is no warped mirroring he can do that will entertain him to stay. Everything to be done has been done before. So that's it. It's done. It's over, there's nothing left, there's nobody to stop him, no tragic narrative. Everyone is just distant. He is sure that he gets pity-invites every now and then, just to prevent him from killing himself, to give him the idea that he is involved. That he is not an outcast. But he is. And there's no shame in that. It just means he has to go.

  Each day he tries to understand them. As if to read their minds. "What would Hajime think of this?" "What if I were to write a suicide letter and target it to him with some inside joke or hidden meaning? Would he get it?" "Would he read it over and over and over and over and over again spiraling as he tries to understand my intent?" "Would he find me cruel?" "What about Ibuki, or Kazuichi? Who would call out his delusions, who would be his comfort?" "What would happen to our shared hobbies? Would he avoid them because he's plagued by thoughts of me? Or would he try to indulge in them more, in favor of me?" "Would he miss me?" "Do they still think of Chiaki like I do?" "What do they blame me for?" Nevertheless, clarity is never achieved. It never will be, but it still keeps him up at night. Besides, it's too late to ask. People will get triggered and upset at him for reopening a wound that they've been carefully stitching shut.

  He hates how they are when not vulnerable. He hates their personalities. If not for his ideations they would have no use to him. And he is starting to let go of who he used to be. He is growing up. He is an adult now. And he never thought he would live this long. It's so unfair.

  Like the circle of life, those who had betrayed him resurfaced recently. They miss him, they want to befriend him again. But there is nothing now. Nothing to talk to him about. Of course he responds as if he's still him. But he's not. He's nothing. He's entirely devoid of emotion, of personality. He is no longer as euphoric and energetic as he used to be. Over the course of a week or two they begin to confront him about his lack of response, insecure that he is bored of them. But no. He is simply unable to even be there for himself, how could he possibly be expected to be there for them?

  Well. This is it. There's nothing left to live for. There are no goals to achieve. There is no second thought holding him back. There is no entity or ideation he believes strong enough to hold him back anymore. It's okay. It will all be over soon. The deafening silence will soon be of comfort to him. No matter what happens after death. Whether he just sits there aching and rotting in darkness. Whether he can or cannot feel. So long as it is eventful there. Not boring.