[ It's pity because it's pitiful— he's pitiful, the fifteen year old him who tried and tried and tried and this is what he amounted to. All that hope he provided, that courageous will, whatever challenges he put them through, it's easy to say when you're not that person, and it's even easier to say post mortem, not before, when it matters.

Thoughts he keeps to himself. But the thoughts of himself...

He breathes a laugh, humorless. ]

I used to be so much more hopeful, didn't I? What happened... [ He tried soooo hard. He did everything he could. He did it because he had to, because if he didn't then nobody would. ] Back then, I really did think everything would work out.

And then I died. All that effort, and for what?

[ He gives a little shake of his head, chews at his cheek until he tastes blood, then continues. ]

You and I experienced different endings, Nagito. Maybe all of you became stronger for it. But for me, I didn't want to see this memory ever again. I didn't want to remember. I didn't want to see it every time I close my eyes. And for you guys to dig all that up and—-!

[ A frustrated sigh gets forced through gritted teeth to reel himself back from the verge of yelling. ]

I locked that memory away because otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to stand on my own again. To get out of bed every day. I did it so I could keep living whatever "life" this is here. Everybody grew more hopeful because of that memory? Good for them. But this isn't about them.

[ Basically, fuck y'all for invading that private memory of his. I wish he had angrier icons. ]