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Makoto sat idly on his bed as he sighed in malcontent. Witnessing the deaths of his friends had taken a toll on his attitude and Makoto could feel himself slipping further and further into anger and sadness, dare he even say despair.

Not only was the killing game a huge bummer, but the total change in Makoto's lifestyle was jarring. He missed his privacy, cameras at every angle sure were a huge turn off for his mood. He missed the internet, days full of mindless scrolling and internet friends (maybe even porn if he was feeling saucy). Hell, he even missed his little sister who would torment him about new anime, or tickets to Sayaka's latest performance, even so, she was his closest friend. Even thinking about the motive video makes him sick to his stomach, he really hopes that she's safe.

Makoto sighed again, it was becoming a habit of his, yearning for a life that was lost was stupid. Makoto may not be the smartest but even he, despite his encouraging words, knows deep down their situation is hopeless. A never-ending story of despair as they pick each other off one by one. It was eating him alive, making his skin prick with restlessness.

Grumbling under his breath as he rubs his eyes with his hands to stop from crying Makoto decides it's time to stop mopping around like a bum, depression? We don't know her.

He's Makoto Naegi god damn it. He's the cheerful one who needs to be brave for the others, so why can't he just be brave for himself?

Makoto entertains the thought of being happy and brave for himself, his brain laughs at him. Well, whatever he doesn't need to take shit from his brain, he IS happy and brave for himself.

Makoto stands up with newly found grandeur as he "courageously" stomps towards his bathroom door, jiggling the handle as he enters he averts his eyes from the shower completely and chooses to stare into the mirror.

He looks... alright? No no, he shouldn't lie to himself like that, he looks like absolute shit. The stress has taken a toll on his hygiene, he hardly ever even washes his face, let alone showers. (Makoto shivers at the thought of pink stains on tile floors)

His face is groggy, covered in freckles with acne here and there, no doubt from stress. Makoto's eyelids are droopy, perfectly matched with the bags under his eyes. Man, he should really sleep more. Makoto chuckles at the thought of ever sleeping well again. God, he's gonna have like, what? PTSD? After all this? Well yknow, if he survives.

Makoto entertains the idea of never leaving his room again before splashing water on his face and deciding that he should just "man up" and go, maybe grab some late dinner. Makoto almost laughs but it comes out as more of a cough. Man, Mondo would be proud of his manliness.

Makoto thinks about butter and decides that he is in fact not going to get food. Hmm, Maybe? A walk? Makoto looks up to the monitor, it's late but not quite night time. He smooths his blazer with his hands before exiting his room, locking the door behind him.

Scanning the surrounding hallway Makoto relaxes as he finds he's alone. Honestly, he would probably just die right on the spot if someone found him wandering around, looking like a lost alley cat.

Makoto hums to himself as he debates whether or not a death like that would cause a class trial, would his peer become the blackened? Does a heart attack count as murder? Makoto shook his head. Sometimes he wishes he could just turn his brain off.

Makoto makes his way past the dorm hallway and stops. Where exactly is he going again? Well fuck he sure dosnt know.

He continues ahead anyway, aware of his surroundings and jumping at the slightest noise. He must look like a total moron right now. Or maybe he looks like a cool ninja from an anime. Makoto smiles quietly at the thought before realizing that's fucking stupid.

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