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This is your punishment . . . this is what a crazy-ass guy like you deserves.
He could almost hear his voice as he shut his eyes.
H-hell no! You think we’re dense! We all know what you almost did!
You told us yourself!
“Heh . . . I did . . .” He could see them if he tried hard enough. See them in his mind’s eye. The two of them, hovering over him like two stupid ravens. One scrawny as a stick, the other broader than a mountain. Both having brains the size of a pea.
We can’t let you run loose and do that again. Ever. We vowed. This was the first and last time that was ever going to happen.
He’s right!
“So this is your smart idea?” He chuckled and rolled over on his side. “They think nothing is going to happen if they just get me out of the picture, huh?”
Why here? Because . . . um . . . yeah why did you bring him here anyway?
Reflection! While you’re tied up here, reflect about what you did in this place! Reflect and change your evil deeds!
“Reflect? Evil?” They really didn’t know anything at all, did they? He turned onto his other side, the chain keeping him attached to the wall clinking as he did. Fate was inevitable. He only remembered so much but it was enough to put the pieces into his brain. It seemed that after watching Terteru Hanamura’s grotesque execution, he was cornered on his way to his cabin. His attackers had him with one powerful punch of Nidai’s fist. When he awoke, both him and Souda were finishing their ‘heroic’ deed of tying him up. A chain was wound tightly (and uncomfortably) around his wrists and locked shut. They apparently decided rope would be better for binding his legs and ankles together.
“What fools . . . what despairing fools . . .” His eyes lazily mulled around the room as the sun cracked in through the slatted wood boards that made up the walls. The main room of the old lodge looked just as it did yesterday morning only with less cobwebs, dust and dirt. All a product of his hard work and dedication. The furnishings from yesterday’s midnight party had been moved out and no trace of them remained. There were no tables, chairs, decorations, food, anything. Everything was back to being empty.
He wriggled his way around to see the place where everything had happened. It looked like such a base scene now with the lamp and the table it sat on removed. But the scratches in between the slatted floorboards and the smell of blood and bile baking in the sun still lingered. The image of Byakuya Togami’s body was still fresh in his mind just like the nausea that was finally catching up to his throbbing head.
You need to reflect on what you did here! Reflect on what you did in this place! Change your evil deeds, Nagito Komaeda!
“Ah, I must be what they call a ‘martyr’. I didn’t do a thing . . . I didn’t kill him. My hands didn’t get dirty. They’re still clean and pure like the hope all of you emit from your eyes. What did I do that was evil? What is there to reflect on? Reflect means you want me to change. How can I change when I did the right thing? Yet . . .” He took in another whiff of the room. “Ah, that must be what it is. You’re all mad at me for starting this cycle of despair. Since Hanamura is dead . . . you all are turning your blame to one that’s still alive. The power of despair really is powerful.” Komaeda chuckled again. “I bet anyone passing by would think I lost my mind at this point! Listen to me, talking to myself.” Shutting his eyes, he let out a low sigh. “I really am nothing but trash, aren’t I?”
Well . . . now I’m just bored. He decided to force the thoughts into his mind now instead of having them hover in the air around him like a dense fog. Wonder how long these goons want me tied up here. Wonder what everyone else is doing right about now . . . I’m sure breakfast is long past. He rolled over again and curled his knees up close to his chest. As uncomfortable and annoying as his situation was, he had a strange feeling that he’d felt this kind of uncomfort before. It almost felt natural for him to be bound up like this. A memory I can’t remember perhaps? Oh, if only he could remember things. Maybe then this entire thing would be easier to figure out. Like why was he here? Why were these people here with him? What had happened between Monomi and Monobear? There was so many pieces of the puzzle that would be answered so much easier if he remembered the events that had transpired before all this. He shut his eyes. Maybe he did remember them. Maybe he just wasn’t trying hard enough. He felt like he should remember things. Remember his past. Remember his family. Remember his luck.
Well . . . maybe this isn’t so bad . . . after all, I must hope too if I want to see their hope shine through despair. Maybe . . . I can finally get my mind together now. With that thought, he drifted away, letting his body rest up from the trauma and letting his brain wander in the pits of his mind.