A/N: Made for RegenesisX and their fanfiction of Five Nights at Monokuma's.

They might never see this but if they do, hello I loved your story and concept. Thank you for the wonderful read.

Hinata knew this was it the moment Nagito turned off the cameras. Not the second when the animatronic slits his skin with mere cold fingers. Not the millisecond an inhuman hand wrapped around his throat, but the cameras. The last shred of evidence. No one would know what went down here nor what happened to him on this late night in a gasoline doused pizzeria.

Hinata screams, his shrill voice a message of pain followed by the shadows of regret and sorrow. Nagito did not respond, of course, the obviously broken hunk of metal didn't. Through the forming black dots, Hinata hurriedly wonders why he came back here. For a matter of stupid pride and the wish to burn away all of his nightmares? Justice for those horrible nights of trying to survive? Look where it got him. Pinned and hurt and…

A guttural crack echos through his chest. This didn't register until reality caught up with his nerves. Hinata chokes oxygen and burning fire in and outside of his lungs. His arm lashes out, colliding with the animatronic's side and only resulting in further harm to his wrist from solid impact. Teeth grit, Hinata tastes copper. He's drowning. Hinata felt like he was drowning in a hurricane of harm, liquid, and lack of oxygen.

"It won't hurt for long." Nagito finally, finally says something, and it's on the grounds of reassuring Hinata about his incoming experience of brutal torture. "Izuru." That name. That damned name which started this mess.

Don't call me that, Is the first layer of words unsaid as the animatronic further reaches with a hand. Why does Nagito do this with nothing more but an impassive face? Those cursed words of his. Don't you dare call me that. I'm not him! Cold fingers gently touch the fine red line dripping scarlet. His uniform shirt had already been easily shredded. Nagito has terrifying anatomy for a humanoid being, how else would he have been able to make precise cuts with just his hands?

Hinata trembles, a wheezy protest barely leaving his lips as Nagito abruptly grabs the thin layer and rips. Droplets spray, and Hinata freezes under the shock of it all. There's only so much one can scream for. There's red on the animatronic. Hinata's blood. He overwhelmingly burning in waves, a breezy cold beginning to forcefully settle through his veins and cracked bone. His ribs are severely broken. Each ragged breath presses against a solid piece of cartilage.

I should have left you to rot. His internal comments are venomous. I was an idiot to feel bad for you. Hinata would have never picked Nagito from off the ground in the back room if he had known the other's true twisted A.I. Never. Nagito, you piece of scrap metal, There are several dots in the corner of his eyes. The edges have gone black as his considered shakes. I hate you.

Hinata does not want to see what he looks like without the protection of skin and muscle. He doesn't want to see bone or see his heart begin to slow. Instead, Hinata writhes and wails one final time. He had shut his eyes. Movement is impossible, everything hurts and Nagito's other hand is still around his throat.

There's a beat.

No.

Nagito's hand latches onto an exposed bloody organ. One of importance and fragile structure. An organ of music, life, and function by the best. Hinata can feel himself stinging, his insides singing for darkness and relief. He feels himself recoiling from the touch. This does nothing to help. Nagito doesn't at all pause, arm soaked red and cotton white hair stained.

Please don't do it,

Hinata attempts to voice pleas, gurgling.

"N...Nn…"

Please don't end my life,

Hinata thinks of his family. He thinks of his friends. He thinks of Chiaki, and how they were supposed to meet up for Game Night a couple of days from now. He thinks of the student debt which will undoubtedly go toward his folks, and the fact funeral bills may ruin them because of their lifestyle. They'll never find his body. Hinata doesn't want to die. He was just a college student. He was just a young man who interacted with the wrong place at the wrong time.

Please,

It's a strange sensation, to lose your heart. The world stills, tilts, and Hinata feels oddly empty. He locks eyes with his murderer one last time.

Nagito's expression is again, carefully blank. Even with the sluggishly beating red blob in his hands. Do animatronics know humans need that to live? Need...To...

And when Hinata is robbed of everything, he truly begins to weep until he himself swiftly fades away. Limp fingers and legs are carried by gravity, as Hinata succumbs in the darkened building of a gasoline touched pizzeria. There's not enough hope to bring him back to the ruined body once called Hajime Hinata. He had been reckless, and now he would forever pay for it.

He still feels empty.

How long has it been? How long has he been sitting in this spot? Darkness. Emptiness. It's all the same. Not that he could move. Everything is too cluttered, too suffocating. It brings him a horrible memory, but Hinata never fully digs it up. Repressed memories are repressed for a reason.

I am sorry. The first voice he's heard in a while other than himself. This must be the primary controller of this...Body. It's not of flesh of blood. None of it is organic. Yet someone else is here.

Hinata is certain if he could blink, he would've. A cursed name is on the tip of his tongue or lack of one. What are you apologizing for? A test, to know what he's dealing with. Hinata is so very tired.

I do not know.

Hinata pauses, pushing past the empty, the fog to simply sneak a peek into the outside world. Through red eyes which aren't his, is a room with dust and spare parts. Are you...Is your name Izuru? Hinata had to know. To acknowledge what this was, even if Hinata already put two and two together. None of this should be possible.

Yes.

Am I dead?

The resulting silence is deafening. There's no need for confirmation. Hinata can't even feel sick. He feels nothing.

I am sorry Nagito did this to you, out of his obsession with me. Izuru continues as if he figured out the answer to Hinata's previous question. Hinata couldn't reply.

Is this...Really happening? Was he doomed to be stuck here? In this dark room and space with his murderer closely nearby? I can't, He can't do this. Why did, how did, Hinata can't even scream.

It would be ten years until someone would come to find him.