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It was all for their sake, really.

And it wasn’t like he couldn’t deal with the throbbing, pulsing pain in his legs and hand, Nagito mused. No, his real concern would be if he were to still be alive by the time the others reached him. But if nothing else, the spear would make a nice contingency plan.

And I couldn’t even bring myself to expose the traitor. Maybe I’m even weaker than I thought.

Much like everything in his life, returning to the funhouse after escaping was a huge gamble. If it wasn’t for Monokuma’s “gracious gift” to break him out after he returned, Nagito might not have been able to put his plan into action.

He never wondered why I needed more bottles of poison. I truly am lucky.

Outside, distantly, he could hear the sound of fireworks. Knowing the next few minutes would be his last, he took some time to reflect. What would it have been like if nobody had killed each other? Would they still be trapped on the island? Would they never discover the lies they’d been told? Would his talent get the better of him yet again?

Oh, talent…

Truth be told, the person he’d miss the most would be Hajime. As much as Nagito loathed to admit it, there was something alluring about the reserve course student. Maybe it was how he was consistently the one to see through the lies of their classmates, the one to bring the despair to light and outshine it with hope (though then again, Nagito was the supplier of every hint; At least that meant the survivors wouldn’t be clued into what he was aiming for now. Dead men couldn’t speak, after all.) Or maybe it was how he had somehow managed to take part in the trip- perhaps a luck to rival his own. Or maybe, just maybe, it was his personality. Despite everything that happened, Hajime seemed to be the most likely person to place trust in him- regardless of whether it was earned or not.

Maybe his final sacrifice could mean something; Isolating the others from himself meant nobody would mourn him, just as it should be. His burden would be lifted from their shoulders, leaving them to ascend to a higher tier of hope- and Nagito would be the catalyst.

What a comforting thought.

The sound of the panels falling like dominoes down the warehouse floor would have made him smile with glee, if it weren’t for the duct tape. And as the curtain began to burn, as he heard their shocked screams, and the sound of hurried footsteps slowly faded, he looked at the ceiling rafters, up to the spear that dangled above him, and let out a breath through his nose.

Showtime.