Work Text:
A final sigh as Sonic took his pen off the paper.
He had been holding it there for what seemed like hours, ink helplessly bleeding into the sheet.
Sonic crumpled it up, throwing it with the rest of the (probably hundreds) of other suicide letters he'd attempted to write. He couldn't put out his feelings onto paper, everytime he tried it seemed like he came off as blaming others or talking too highly of himself.
This one, that Sonic had just tossed with the others, was the best one he's written so far.
He knew damn well he shouldn't be practicing so he can fucking _kill himself_ with passion, and without any regrets, but that wouldn't matter soon.
Maybe it would be better to just let his hand guide him.
Sonic rose from his writers desk, retrieving another lined piece of paper. On his way back, he noticed the paper beginning to overflow his trash next to his desk.
Sonic couldn't help but chuckle.
For once, he was too slow with his writing. He wanted this to be perfect. His hand was not guiding him towards the right words, it was guiding him towards all the things he didn't want in his note.
His eyelids felt heavy, he was so sleepy.
Maybe he didn't need a note?
Sonic smiled at the thought.
How ironic that the only thing in the world that could kill him now was himself. Only he could destroy the legacy he's made for himself.
After you ascend to a point where you're no longer normal, where you save the world pretty much every year, you're unstoppable.
That is, until you decide you don't want that life anymore.
"God damnit..."
He barely whispered. He had written all of those intrusive thoughts down by accident.
He recollected himself, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair.
He thought about everyone he had just left behind, and was going to leave behind for good.
They just wanted the best for him...
To hell with that, he had lost his last straw. There was no more rational thinking beyond this point.
He spaced out, writing mindlessly until he felt himself writing on the table instead of the paper.
"私はこれを後悔するつもりです..."
(I'm going to regret this...)
...
With Sonic's signature down on a five-paged suicide note, it was finally time.
He got up from his seat, stretching his arms. He was so tired...
Sonic huffed, he couldn't go out so exhausted like he was.
He knew something that could wake him up, though.
Sonic furrowed his eyebrows, walking to his TV and pressing the ON button (along with his console).
He slowly blinked, looking at the SEGA logo on the screen. It burned in his retinas, as the lights in his room were off.
Maybe he could occupy himself with this for a bit.