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His skin was burning and oh god, he wanted to die.
The flames licked up at his thighs and arms and he screamed and screamed until his voice turned hoarse.
His fingers grabbed at his white curls as he writhed on the floor, soundless shrieks and screeches left unheard as the fire consumed him.
But there was no fire, nothing, but only him on the cold, concrete floor with tears streaming down his pale cheeks.
He was not in control this time, then again when was he ever? His eyes welled up with tears.
He clutched at his neck, bitten fingernails digging into the skin as his mind tortured him, and he scratched, trying to tear his throat out.
He wanted to die, the pain was killing him and he just wanted to die in peace but that can't happen to him, can it?
He was burning up and the fire only seemed to get hotter and hotter and his fingers scrabbled at his neck, before he reached into one of the inner pockets of his jacket.
He had kept a knife just in case, but he never knew he was going to end up using it for this.
He thought bitterly that if he stabbed his throat and ruptured his carotid artery he would die faster, there was no need for him to turn into ashes while alive.
And not once did the thought of living crossed his mind, because nobody was there for him anyway why should he care anymore all he wanted-
Was to be dead.
When he finally cut at the artery, he smiled weakly at the blood spurting out of his blood vessels.
The fire had waned, and he was not burning anymore.
He was going to die peacefully after all.
He was going to-
"N-Nagito...?"
Hajime-kun, he thought fondly. His imagination was going to torture him till the end, huh?
He closed his eyes. At least Hajime would be the one he thought of last.
"No no no no, please, fuck, NAGITO NO-"
Then he could not hear anymore.